Buscando Dios

Foam-flecked tendrils of salt-water-thoughts Eagerly fingering the sands of the dream-like shores. Grasping the bright silica flashes of intuition And pulling them into the pulsing deeps

All that dark matter swimming around In the farthest reaches of my being Mystery upon misery, Sadness clinging to the porpoise tail of emotion Swirling masses of inchoate energies

Soul's freedom soars on wings of beaten love. Shame shackles forging links of despair. Downtrodden shuffling corpse of the once-living suffocating hearts confusion with hopeless addiction.

Bowed heads and solemn faces Tight-mouthed with down-turned lips Exhorted to raise Hearts and voices In Easter Joy. What Joy is Duty? What freedom in fear? Gratitude on lips

Dead sins weight rolled by hardened hearts before the narrow gate no entry in and no release Dread darkness of fears corrupting Stench rising from mortal decay bound by winding cloths

Through sunlight shining on sculptured stone fragilely it flew. Whisper of fading life fluttering erratically to rest in feeble flight caressed by light unknowing known.

Alone in the tear-bitter darkness Heart-rent by dawning awareness Fantasy fields of constructed madness Now made stone-strewn Mocking deserts Of shifting sands