I hover the pen over the page,
But I can't;
The page is already full.
Full of mess.
Phrases here, snippets there,
Doodles and lines
And errors. So many.
I try to fix them.
Black out, white out,
Scratches, rewrites.
I want to make it better,
But it's a mess.
"There's nothing more you can do."
I protest, "But look!
There's a space here, and
I can improve on that."
You're making it worse."
Well, isn't He blunt.
"Hand me the pen."
I pretend not to hear.
"Hand me the pen, please."
He doesn't command
but I think otherwise.
"I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?"
Just an inquiry.
But still.
"Even if I hand it to You,
You don't know what I want."
"I do."
"You don't know how I imagine it to be."
"I do."
"Do You?"
Just an accusation.
He winks at me.
"If You do know, then tell me."
"Even better, I'll show you."
I want You to tell me first.
What do You intend?
How do You describe it?"
"It's better to just show you."
Man, can He annoy sometimes.
"Describing won't do it justice.
Besides, it'll spoil the wonder of it all.
Don't you want to be surprised?"
"Sure, I love surprises.
I'd just like a pretty detailed hint
at the least."
He laughs.
"You're so stubborn."
Blunt again.
"No I'm not."
He grins.
"I'm the most adaptable person."
The grin stays.
"Well, if you are, then..."
He holds out His hand.
The pen's in a death grip.
I look at the page desperately.
"Just one more..."
I go for it
and stab a hole
right through.
I stare agape
and embarrassed.
He sighs
in sorrow.
I wait for the words,
I told you so.
But they never came.
"Trust Me."
I stare agape
at Him.
"Trust Me."
"But the page's ruined."
"So... it's beyond repair."
"If you do it your way."
He does know bluntness hurts, right?
"Are You saying You... can fix it?"
He smiles confidently.
"I can do better."
"I'll show you."
Imperative tone. I look.
His eyes and mouth
are gentle.
But His open palm is firm,
His stance assured.
"Trust Me."
I bite my lip.
"Trust Me."
I avoid His gaze
and whisper,
"I want it to be perfect
"It will be perfect,
because I AM perfect."
Now I sigh
because it's true.
"So it'll be just as I want it to be?"
"It'll be much more.
You can't even imagine it."
I start to speak
But stop.
"Trust Me."
A teardrop.
I lift my hand,
Close my eyes,
and drop.
"Thank you."
I say nothing
but look at the page.
"But it's already a mess."
"Don't worry about it."
He reaches over,
rips it up,
throws it away.
takes a new page
out of His own.
He winks at me.
"I use only the best."
I grunt.
He laughs
and hugs me.
"This had better be good."
"Oh, it will!"
He says,
The teardrop rolls.
He hovers the pen over the page.
"Shall we?"