In God, we become one of we, of us, altogether,
still separate entities,
floating free, for this is how it has to be.
Within this aural atmosphere that emanates off you and me, or what we conceive ourselves to be,
we reach for God! To entwine! To entwine our entities!
For so many,
a labyrinth full of open doors, crawls up and
down, so many patterned floors,
they’re in search of what was once before.
Sabbath days, you feel closer, closer to Him.
In well worn books
He/She shines behind
a skyline of sentences that
step away, within this quietude that we partake,
within the sounds that we
we pray His words,
a fragile, twisted thread
that we must follow,
we’re wedded souls
to Him/Her, for there’s nothing more.
Through the shifting sands,
we’re Salvador Dali people,
on an oblique plain,
standing upon the brink of our existence,
which way we’ll float?
We don’t know.
Time warps as we reach out towards God,
with clenched hands,
with a pensive stare,
crouched, alone, weeping to be one
with Him/Her again.