What if I could turn my head slightly, and sink into your enveloping bliss? How many times per day would I seek You?
What if I could rest my thoughts on You, Lord, and know your warmth so immense, so close... approach with reverence your sacred fire burning (since forever) at the center? You tug at my heart, a surge of liquid fire. I turn to look, and see with Your eyes a never forsaken illumination of the vast expanse of majestic space.
Who could I write home to about that!? (Wait... here's my blog).
How would I tell You when I need You most, when my need for You is a cookie that never crumbles, the up that never comes down?
Forget it, Jake. It's Chinatown. Some things are just inevitable.
Lord, I feel your love of my love of You, your love of my need for You. This synergy pulls me up, somehow changes my thoughts from an unruly torrent to this... an eddy in the swirl of ultimate mystery, the quiet ripple of Your steady will, bathed in unbroken silence.
Just try to think after that.
Then, my Lord, when I think I have caught You at last, You pluck me from my cage with a thimble full of your intelligence, then fall with me when I fall back in. Is that You I've been holding onto? Wait... You are the door too?
Moonlit yoga. In my dream I ran so fast I fell into You... and found You were dreaming of me.
So. Today, questions seem best.
So. What gives?