Return To Source

For the Children of Jacob

I step over mountains
and rivers beg to follow my feet
I speak--
oceans dancing with wrath stand still
en pointe

I am the changing seasons of the universe
raining gently like rose petals
my spirit green, wild, and lush
like the tropics

I sing in B flat
my voice a sand filled flask
my tone deep like a full bodied wine
and the sands of time still, and become
drunk with my light

I remember like the
wind
Though the eye knows not where it goes
it takes with it all it touches
and all it touches desire
to return to it's source

You ache for my presence
--a chilling beauty
leaving you longing
even in the sun

Bone of my bone
and flesh of my flesh
and yet even in your strongest moments
you are weak for me
and despite your protest, you know it.

In heaven to earth who is like me?
Who can wrestle with God and win?