Acrostic Poem

Inspired by acrostic psalms.

Jesus is the Word.

All the time and memories
before we were a thought
created from interstellar
dust, darkness ruled
everything empty.
Fear, a concept, could not
gain strength or take
hold of existence and
infinite at once.

Jesus already was
King, persisting, and He would
love and sacrifice for
me and you, for all.
Nothing can separate
or remove us from His
palm—holding—breathing
quietly a joyous offer:
rest and life for our weary
souls. Compelled, we will
tell everyone dead
under the temporal sun that
victory is in Jesus.

(We can resolve to give up
Xanax or media for new
years, in lists from A to
Z; we still need
Jesus to breathe.) Selah.