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.




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