Wednesday, February 24, 2010

I think I met You
In the wind of the dancing grass

I think I knew You
As the water cleansed the past

Something is swelling
Inside the dryest root

Your love is the first
Your love is the last
Your hands hold eternity
All of it is a vision
breaking through stained glass

Break the walls
the exterior of my sorrow

Sew me back together
Just as you knitted my heart to be

How I need You

1 comment:

Salty Duck said...

is this God you speak of?