Our cloven hearts
A fire in the joy; a fire in the grief;
a fire in the salt of our tears,
the chafe of our fetters;
a flame at the end
of our ever-shortening fuse -
there's a burning every moment,
our blood pushed and pressured
through its circuitous, destined path.
To seek within, the longing for God,
moving through our each
unique and curious lives,
the inner urgency and a goad
to turn us from the dream,
we need only dip our torches
into the ever-present, ever-burning
flame of our error, in the caldron
of our cloven hearts, the ubiquitous,
ever-present fire of our exile.
O child of God, longing for God is the blood-deep
remembrance of an ancient and abandoned placidity.
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