You inspire me

I do not know who you are

Or have the slightest clue

 What you look like

What you sound like

What job you do

But you keep me up late

You fill my thoughts

I use to think that to have a muse, you must know who they are

To actually see them

To actually hear them

So you can meditate on them and them alone

So from them you can draw inspiration

Yet you prove me wrong

The majority of my written works are for God

Out of humility

Out of Love

But still I find words written not for Him

Not to anyone I can give a name to

Not to anyone I can give a face to

They are sprawled out on a page

Not meaningless patterns

But forming sentences that have a purpose,

Yet I do not know who to,

So I imagine they are meant for you

Whoever you may be

I am here

I wait for God to lead you to me

Until then, I will continue to write for you

Whoever you may be

Maybe one day, my words, you’ll see

And you’ll know they could not be for anyone

Anyone but you

Maybe one day, my words, will connect you to me

Whoever you may be