Poetry

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It was there
Buried in my heart
Like a ripened seed
Before breath’s first sweet taste
Entered my lungs
As I cried out with life

Already fully grown
My desire was for You
For Your touch
For Your Presence
Throughout my day
To be the beat of my heart

So why did I wander?
Why did Your
Familiar Voice
Fade …
No longer make my heart pound
With each breath I drew?

For Your voice was there
Buried in my heart
Before I ever knew
Anything else
Ever knew the call
Of other voices

A desire
That was hunger’s ache
Filled me then
And fills me now
Even as I wander
From field to field
In search of You

Each drawn breath
Renews the longing
Stirs up the echo
Of Your voice
Faded
But not gone
As I cry out for life

For that
Which I’ve walked
These many days
Is but life’s mirage
A flickering image
Of Your voice that beckons

Compassionate
Desire-filled
I hear it
Still
Calling from that ripened seed
Buried in my heart

And it leaves
All other voices
Empty
False
Mere imitations
Of the desire for which I long

Then again
You speak
With sweetest clarity
Or at least I hear
Where deafness before
Turned my ear from You

And running
At last
To Your open arms
I embrace anew
Desire’s voice
And know a home
Within Your gentle touch




© DeAnna L. Brooks
22 January 2005

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