Raymond A. Foss Poems

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in the touch of my daughters’ fingers
in the brush of our cats’ fur
in the swirl of leaves falling to the ground
the dance of snowflakes, driven by a hidden hand
in the flickering stars in the night sky
the fading warmth of the sun at twilight
in nature, in memory, in the senses
I feel the closeness, the direction, the precision
of the creator, the master, the potter,
shaping, conjuring, bringing into being
out of nothingness a world, a universe
order out of chaos, harmonious
in nature revealed, the grace of God

December 2, 2008

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