What is it to yearn?
To cast my heart
outside my chest,
look for a safe landing
along the physical world.
You are everywhere,
yet I cannot get
close enough,
always the brush
of shoulders but never
the full embrace.
A yearning employs thirst,
a thrust of soul
in desperation to find
where the
emptiness begins,
locate an end to quench
a parched soul.
My quest: Cast my heart
towards the veiled, unseen,
with hope and trust
that You will, in time,
meet my heart,
nudge it softly to see
and drink its fill.
Leave a Reply
« The Cup
Looking for something in particular?
Explore the archive! Organized for ease by category and year.
Visit the Archive
Add a comment
0 Comments