God, I’ve grown weary of the falls and rises.
My spirit knows that all it really wants is
your presence and the fullness of it. I notice
it, I notice you, and then it’s as if my senses
once again are dulled. Falls and rises. I know
that you are present within me but, again,
it’s partial and fleeting. These tastes of heaven,
the fullness of your presence, tide me over
but I want more. I’ve grown weary of the partial.
Falls and rises. I am starving for the feast,
at which I shall not be concerned about sustenance
from the food but being sustained by your presence.
O how I look forward to no more falls and rises.