I have always adopted, in this human dilemma,
the rational approach,
but, secretly, I long for a love that makes no sense.
My every motive is self-preservation,
while my heart’s wings propel me, inexorably,
Let those royal falcons build their nests
in the clefts and crags of Your holy mountain.
I want only to throw myself over the edge.
Let them haunt the rugged peaks.
My fate is farther down the slope,
where Your ocean swallows me.
Below that rugged exterior lie
the quiet disintegration and utter stillness I crave.
O child of God, your longing is romantic and self-serving.
When will you see yourself as you really are?
(from A Jewel in the Dust)