Beloved, Beloved, I am no poet nor writer,
no teller of tales nor weaver of words.
I am merely a head full of words,
a heart overflowing with love
enthroned in flesh and made distant from You.
On calm nights I, too, am calm
saying only, again and again,
“I love You, Lord, I love You.”
On wild nights I rage, my heart screaming
words my mind cannot grasp.
I feel Your lack deep in my bones,
I feel Your absence shuddering through me
and I am never more human than in those moments,
never more alive than when I stand alone,
lost, lonely, wishing with all my heart for the one I love.