The Master’s Plan
Tiny specks driven downward, outward in chilling darkness.
Silver glitter swirling violently through winter’s desert night.
A single leaf seen dangling suspended only by thinnest thread.
The shriveled form oppressed forward, then violated backward,
but forever returning to the center according to the Master’s plan.
Moaning gusts by universes of darkened silence.
Cerebral flashes now tumult through empty mist.
A lone soul suspended by the faintest grand vision.
Its beauty lacerated into screaming repulsion, and
fleeting refuge driven by un-reflected compromise,
but ever returning to the center, the Master’s plan.
Peace pouring down silences howling winter night.
Serenity quiets the clamoring of desert storm.
A calm hush warms bone chilling air.
The sole benefactor of this sacred moment,
though allured left or driven too far right,
but one who ever returns to the center,
the center of the Master’s plan.
Daniel Downs
February 7, 1999
About the poem
The poem above is intended to encourage people experiencing a time when the cold reality of crisis, a moment when the wind of adversity, raises doubts and drives us humans to look for answers, which sometimes are unanswerable or go unanswered. People of faith have a center to return to. Like the center of a storm, in the center people find the calm of the Prince of Peace — the Master planner.
