Creation’s presence flitted past,
A brief flutter of flight,
Truth is in its wings,
But, I cannot find a place to rest,
Always moving to discover,
What beauty is mine to have.
My life is lived yearning,
Unsure of what truth is lived,
My soul slowly dissolving,
Hoped for laughter,
Turning to a downcast spirit,
Catching only its own light,
Glimmering briefly,
Soon it’s dimmed.
Where I have flourished,
Hope is far away.
My restless heart,
Creating answers, seeking hope,
Ends with questions,
Truth is an elusive dream,
With the tragic gap between words and love,
Love’s search must end at its beginning,
So truth can find its home,
Resting in its source,
But, its beauty lived in my heart.