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You are not a thing nor a concept.
What I have imagined and learned to this point
is only a self pleasing, tangible shade
I have created for my own security.

Yet I am held in you,
though who I am is neither thing nor concept;
I am not an object to be bought or used
nor built upon like an old, decaying house.

Who you are elides when I attempt
to construct you into some thing that is pleasant
and comforting, some thing I can hold
in the palm of my hands.

You are beyond what I can see or fathom,
and I have found that I do not know
what you are, for you are not what
but Who, not tangible thing, but God.