When those moments come
that You feel a strange recognition, a yearning,
to see and move through the entire world, the universe, Eternity--
and some fleeting but vivid part of Yourself
asserts that somehow, You do--
that is Me, holding My hand to Yours.
And though You observe the four walls, the earth and the sky, the cloak of light and dark,
and sometimes may be convinced that You are here and only here--
You are not; We are not.
I reach outward, always outward; it is My Nature--
and You are part of that, part of Me.
As I am part of You.
And so Divine is Your voice and touch,
that what You say to Me
is as vital as the the force that spawned Me and draws Me to some final but unending Destiny.
We are
The Children.
Written Content G.A.M. cc
Lone igorigorevich
Scene: G. Windswept At Night © All Rights Reserved By All Respective Media Concerns
RSS Feed
