I do not sense you in this place
Of sanctuary;
I do not feel your touch
Among the swirl of sound, lights and visions.
I am cut off from our common place
Although your presence is beside me
And behind me and before.
No, there is no communion now,
Although I sit here, so still, and my thoughts are quiet
Or if I should pound, pound, pound upon the door
Or just sit and listen for the knock from without.
I know I need to feel your knock, as well,
Upon the doorposts of my heart
And it is fleeting comfort
That the wind might still blow strong
Against my face, among the other sensations
I now feel as I sit in this sanctuary
And await the calling of my Maker,
And the touch of my brothers and sisters.
About Me
- TBAYNHAMIII
- I was born in Kentucky, though my parents had been living in Knoxville before my birth. My mother's mother lived across the street from the hospital in Hopkinsville, Kentucky, which was convenient. I moved around quite a bit when I was young, but ended up in Georgia. I like to read and write and love food and drink way too much. I have a funny wife and daughter who has finished her batchelor's degree and is living with her grandmother in North Atlanta and studying advertising. I sometimes wonder what life would have been like if I had not gone to law school. Regrets come and go with the seasons.
No comments:
Post a Comment