Incomplete

I am poet without a poem

Song without any voice.

Breath breathing out and in

In stillness I rejoice.

I am feet without a path,

Prayer whose hands can’t clasp.

Whispering I cannot shout

That which I scarcely grasp.

I am tears in eyes too dry,

Laughter without a sound.

Yet, though I scarcely walk,

I go the whole world round.

I am the might-have-been.

I am the yet-to-be;

Waiting to be complete,

Tuned to Christ’s harmony