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