all things: Fata Morgana

Fata Morgana

If only my cracked lips

Might be wetted

If only my wrecked feet

Might be bound with salve

I might trust again

In your provision

Yet here, in the desert

Of the soul, I awaken

To the truth of my oases

I see the sand I've devoured

I see the well of the dead

I don't see you anywhere

Train me to see with

Your Great Spirit's eyes

I am not the father

I am not the son

But to your astral web

Of connection, I belong

I do not ascend alone

I do not dwell in the sky

I do not have wings

I am not alone

I belong, am welcome,

In you, my home.

Posted by Hans Andersen | at 3:29 AM