Our leaves are wilted.
Water is scarce.
We look up with tears.
If only you would water us.

My death spreads deeper to my veins.
I am in love with you, dear source of my life.
Fill this dried and dessicated shell.
My sanity is forged in your life.

No direction do I have.
What is North?
What is any of it without depth in these vessels?
Disgraced by all else.

I thought I knew.
It was black and white.
My North was meddled with by thieves.
Now it is grey.

You don't mind, do you?

Am I lost?

Are you?

The weight of opportunity weighs heavy on my fragile being.

Opportunity missed. Opportunity taken.

Failure. Freedom. Failure. Disappointment,

I am allowed to fail, aren't I?

Aren't you?

Toss. Turn. Every direction is uncertain.

Not strong enough to stay..not strong enough to keep going.

I am living the epidemic.

Nonsensical is life.

He is the only Thing that makes sense.

And as I dissect this frail heart..

Made of lace, and porcelain, and everything beautiful,

I find more.

So much more than I remembered.

And remembrance can be haunting.

These that are delicate and fragile

Seem so lovely and pure.

But still I find more.

Heartache and sorrow wrap themselves in lace.

Lace is such a pretty blanket, you see.

The glory of God is man fully alive"

Oh, Breath that comes from these lungs.

To make these words into something real.

How I have avoided Your subtlety.

And now I fight for air,

For my breathing patterns fail me.

Crisp air I long to inhale.

Pure, simple truth.

You will expand in my lungs

And push out what is ugly.

I shall exhale You with gladness..

This depth of Breath,

I have imagined You not.

Fullness of Breath teeming.

Up to my throat..

Out of my mouth.

At no time do I run out.

Oh no, I cannot keep You out.

Your breath creates..

This life that reflects Your breath.

Never ceasing.

Lonesome again.

This time it’s not a solemn solitude.

My heart crescendos to the rhythm of it’s own beat.

Deep into the swing of that sweet heartbeat music.

And my memory longs for times I never knew..

Nostalgia of a life I never lived.

Romanticized dreams of past and future.

The present is the cruelest to us. To our dreams.

Love like an ocean.

Although uncertain in it’s path,

Seldom worried of where it’s going.

That sweet heartbeat music starts up again…

Loneliness is not always a fearsome thing.

Time filled with meaningless clatter..

When our souls ache for reflection.

Richness found in the sound of our own music.

Can you hear it?