If loving God is the only pleasure,
how have I gone
so far afield
to seek you in every avenue
but Home.
How can I be so misguided?
How can I live
each day
strangling my fragile joys
in exchange for headaches
and deadlines,
guilt, pressures,
forgetting the unbounded
glory of love
with these paltry wanderings.
Where goest my heart now?
Gazing to another illusory delight.
Only nature is true
to me these days.
The wind and fierce cold,
the sky carrying
flagships of clouds.
The buttes singing
in their steadfast manifestness.
All that is truth.
My gaze need stray no more.