God, I want to be ready to die.
I'm not.
My seeds are feeling choked. What am I really living for?
How can I make it easier, possible, for people to know You?
How can I know You better?
I need You. Without mediation.
Christ, I need You.
I guess two things, beauty and suffering, may be the fastest conductors.
What can I do today, to hear You and be with You and rest?
How do You want to speak to me? What do You want to say?
What does my spirit need?
Can I trust you to fill the voids that nothing touches yet?
Can I trust You to zing in the synapses, to drum in the diaphragm?
To glow in the solar plexus? To shoot out like moonbeams from my fingertips and the ends of my hair? (Thanks, George Bailey).
Spring is real, is real, is real. It is only spring, and it passes, but it is real as winter.
I'm not.
My seeds are feeling choked. What am I really living for?
How can I make it easier, possible, for people to know You?
How can I know You better?
I need You. Without mediation.
Christ, I need You.
I guess two things, beauty and suffering, may be the fastest conductors.
What can I do today, to hear You and be with You and rest?
How do You want to speak to me? What do You want to say?
What does my spirit need?
Can I trust you to fill the voids that nothing touches yet?
Can I trust You to zing in the synapses, to drum in the diaphragm?
To glow in the solar plexus? To shoot out like moonbeams from my fingertips and the ends of my hair? (Thanks, George Bailey).
Spring is real, is real, is real. It is only spring, and it passes, but it is real as winter.
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