The soul yearning
Longing for the taste of stars
The distance never ceases
The depth that erodes slowly
Losing the path
The voice so very soft
Slowly floats along the path of the wind
To a place unrecognizable
Looking in the mirror
Seeing a stranger staring back
While time is speeding away
The clock ticking
Life spent in the quest for depth
Is left on the surface
Fabricated tables
The texture of wood
one comes to realize
is factory made
From the factory wood
to the tree
the soul reroutes its path
return to God
The Sacred and the Space in Between 