Sursum corda

Soaked from the rain of anxious madness,

I turn a stumbling corner, 

And uncover an empty path. 

The unmaterial spirit that surrounds my being

takes my lonely, and tells 

me to wander. 

I want to tell it that I know not what it wants of me, 

I know nothing about this path. 

I experience a fleeting sense of warmth, 

and direction,

and understand that I need not know anything. 

The mysterious spirit will fill me.  

Hand in hand, we hike.

It shows me all of earth. 

We hike through past centuries, 

through trees, through glorified flowers

that grow on the graves of the risen. 

We walk through hunger and sorrow,

through joy and excitement, 

through pride and fulfillment.  

Together we cry

the spirit and I,

in awe.

The further we go, 

The less I am able to tell the difference between 

the powerful spirit and myself. 

A love so powerful 

encompases all of my senses,

we move onward with 

strong conviction. 

We come to a stop, 

and a joyful understanding 

that there exists nothing 

but blind love. 

And with that I shed 

all wordly perceptions of self, 

and wander, one with the spirit, 

into the clouds.

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