Whole Sort Of Genl Mish Mash
Like an empty hearth,
my soul, cold and desolate when you found me,
poor and needy,
eyes blinded to my own heart's poverty.
Your love ignited the kindling:
from a spark, a flame;
from a flame, a roaring fire.
My words are like the ashes,
rising from that blaze, cast to the heavens,
bearing witness to the fire
that rages below like circling Seraphs,
burning bright for a moment,
to disappear from sight,
carried off by the four winds.
Yes, my words are like the ashes
rising from that blaze.
No longer needy, no longer poor,
no longer dark, no longer desolate,
The same flames that give light and warmth
also consume me.
I long for more of your love,
fearing the day when these bright flames
become dark smoke.
Against that day my spirit desperately strives.
Who would turn from the fire
and return to the empty hearth?
I will not.
Though your flame be distant as the stars above,
by it I am warmed.
Though the clouds obscure its light,
by it I see.
May my love also be
your warmth, your light.