Candles guttering, bottles empty,
the littered table abandoned;
bellies full; throats raspy with song --
one more, one more and still yet, one more --
companions reluctant to end the night.
Longing for God is the same fire
as solace found
in the impermanence of existence;
in the impermanence of the self;
solace, sweet solace found
in the ethereal and illusory,
in abdication and surrender,
in the structure and promise,
the poetry and majesty of the game itself;
found by faith and grace, solace
by faith and grace, grace always there,
always there -- all there ever was
and all there ever will be.
O child of God, longing and solace are the same fire
taken from the One eternal, ever-abundant Source.