That dent upon your brow
And frown upon your lips
That nervous twitch of your fingers
And the habit of angry pacing
I wish it were of use.
That genuine smile of purity
Those eyes when wide with intensity
The glisten of your tears
And your everlasting hope
I wish it weren’t in vain.
Your random endless talents
That silver tongue, the play of words
Your mind so quick, and thoughts so clear
That golden pen, and the wand of vision
I wish… You knew to use them.
Not for you, not for them.
Just for Him, and then for all.