I cannot find a master who wasn’t made by man
Into something man would never understand
Stop seeking, weeping and every other plan
God is metaphorical man
Love is God
God is Love
So what, then, is man?
Sticks and stones and broken bones?
Separate from heavenly thrones?
Searching, but never finding?
Yearning for reuniting?
Until death we’re apart?
My God, my Love,
Take now my heart, my soul and everything I own
Meet me where I am…far from home
Bring heaven to me
Make me a finder
I receive that which I sought
To meet my maker without the rot