It is that smile that feeds the beats of your heart,
That sigh of pain that tears you apart,
That burning tear that falls in the dark,
That stamp of prostration; that blessed mark.
The daydreams of agony that steal you away,
Those shivers of anxiety whenever you pray,
The simmering of tears obeying their way,
The eyelids that shut waiting for the last day.
The inner voice that calls Come to Me,
The stubborn blind grasp on that daily plea,
That sigh of relief in remembrance of He,
That live mystery of what is and what I see.
That smirk at a glance only You understand,
That longing to let your heart beat on the sand,
The gift with which I open and close each hand,
The thirst to solve puzzles of this ephemeral land.
