Talk with me, frenzied dreamer!
Talk to me of love and hunger.
Show me the Face of God,
Etched in the blood of ancient places,
Where the breath of choirs swell the desert winds.
Describe to me His features,
Drawn on peeling advertisement hoardings,
Littering city skylines.
Then run with me down streets
Scorched by the daylight of Hiroshima,
Where children call His name in the fires,
The rhythm of the flames swelling the night.
The Mirror, inconspicuous with Its constant presence,
Silently reflecting on every atom with purity.
Such balance defies all comprehension.
And yet That balance defines all comprehension.
i walk past unknowingly, rare glimpses of Your Image
penetrate to the very Centre of my eye.
I recognise something, and I awake for a Second,
Longing for Your Love.
i am a child who wants but knows not what.
Your appearance is One of fragmentation,
But You are The Golden thread that holds Us together.
Necessity demands All movement in Your direction.