more poetry

I wrote this yesterday, too. Maybe I'm moving into another prolific time of writing poetry. I've had 2 primary prolific periods of poetry: senior yr. of high school (97-98), and senior yr. of college (01-02).
Anyway, here are the words:
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You are so gracious to recreate me every moment,
as I stand, fixed on the temporary universe, your potter's wheel.

I am a vapor, yet you've found some way to hold me,
and you said that you would carry me for eternity;
Nothing can steal me from your perfect hand.

This is bliss,
to live in the impossibility of the moment,
held by invisible hands,
in the midst of becoming

solid.

You are so gracious to recreate me.
Every moment I am made more true,
and my existence moves closer to Reality.