Yearning
Yearning
There is a yearning in the human heart
Often going without a name,
Experienced as a wound by some,
By others a simple longing.
An inner thirst,
Unquenchable,
Showing no mercy to the Soul,
Allowing no permanent rest
Since it cannot be owned
But only sought.
This yearning points beyond what we have,
It almost seems that we are also pursued.
That being also yearned for
Is what draws us forward.
Seeking union with that which has no name,
Nor form,
Yet present in the inner emptiness
Speaking of home
A place we know is there
Even though never seen.
0 Comments
Recommended Comments
There are no comments to display.
Create an account or sign in to comment
You need to be a member in order to leave a comment
Create an account
Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!
Register a new accountSign in
Already have an account? Sign in here.
Sign In Now