When you hear of
The things I’ll do for you,
Don’t make the hearing
Your only response to
The rising in your soul
I bring,
Listen and reach out for
What you perceive.

No one can tell you
What I’ll do for you.
No one knows the
Fingerprint I impressed
When in her womb
I knit you
And compelled you to be
The object of the work
I’d before time
Conceived to be
Done by you,
You only can receive
The impression in the womb
In you developing
On the negative
Of experiences
Coming to you.
A lifetime of other
Visions designed to
Obscure the first
That flashed you into

You alone remember seeing
What I showed your
Newly formed womb
That acted as development,
A room upon the blank slate
Of your being
To serve to capture
The full image with
The meaning intended to be.

Your existence searches
For the vision impressed,
Your meaning
Defined by Me
In her womb.
Our spirits touched
Two as one
In the transfer
Of your history.

You saw before birth
What I called you to be.