Out of Touch

1) The well is dry to all that seek water
You speak of quenching it like a father.
Even in sight of all that is good, pure...
I find myself unhappy, and unsure.
You place your hand on my shoulder, and speak
Of what is forbidden; those that are weak
You say are foolish to abstain from it,
That they have no hope in their merry wit.
Yet I turn away, your suggestions, false,
Are only in hopes of making the walls
Of my quivering heart collapse inside,
Reveal how alone I am; though I've tried
Over time to grow in the light of God
I cannot discover a single laud...

2) My hope is in God; but my mind is so
Tied by the world around me. It is dry
To think only of what is to come. O
For a drink of water, or tea! I sigh.
None of these things can satisfy my heart,
And still the currents unbalanced do smart
At the walls of this old hallowed being
So I cannot understand what I'm seeing. 
O for a sight that would confirm my name
Was not got from another all in vain!
O for a plight that would test my old skills,
A hike, a trek, through these mountains and hills!
And with me the presence of the one love;
In other hearts we are satiated. 

3) The sight of self is enough some would say
To pass away time, or the heat of day,
To overcome the raging waves of light
That assail our eyes and impair our sight!
For when light has no object, no person
To absorb it's beauty, then a hearse in
Black is the result of this great attack!
Men cannot hope at all, not trust alack,
In withstanding alone this great advance
Of light into darkness. This circumstance
Requires more, requires absorption,
Requires that one be many, for fun!
So know that the sight of the self alone
Does not give creation it's proper tone.

4) Like the sound the fills the whole world at dawn
When the sun cries hey diddle diddle tawn!
As the birds that sing an orchestra's march
Of spring and beauty in the cold of March!
With a tang of croaking and bellowing,
Of purring cats and barking dogs, all sing;
Such is the sound of creation's great ring,
And added to that is the sound of each wing
As they flutter, and hover in the sky;
The merest sound of a gentle sigh...
Sound fills the earth with the great trumpet blast
That announces our God is here at last!
Yet it's not for any one thing I long,
But for one who will with me sing along.

5) A man, or a woman, both have their perks;
Each has potential of being a jerk;
Yet it is with hope that I long for them,
Their company reminds me of times when
I had love in my heart. I look for shades
Of gray that may be overcome, the fades
Of the sky in the morning mists cover
Over the glory of the noonday; were
Such fades as the evening hue, that red
Spotlight that causes mantles of blue, wed
To the morning, and afternoon lit rays,
Then would it be as I desire it,
I would be joined with brother and sister
As is glory light at the end of days.

                           Out of Touch (c) Luke Bennette, May 2012