The golden field in which I dwell –
To which I was led by a Gift –
Is but a small reflection of what is to come.
It is imperfect, but a promise of perfection.
The trees seem real and the creatures alive,
But to what purpose are they here?
Why must I dwell in this place when
There is a land much greater than this
Just beyond my reach?
And why is it that sometimes I feel lonely in this place
When sometimes I feel fulfilled by one touch
Of my love, my creator.
And why, when I do feel lonely, do I long
To leave this place?
But the gentle steps around me
Are not to be ignored
No matter how much I try.
How is it that they hold me up, as I hold them up?
Together we talk of this place to which we were led
And learn to love it
And its imperfections.
And oft we are lead to share the Gift
So that more can gather here with us.
And so we dream here together
Of the perfect form of this creation.
Though we may feel alone, it only takes
A simple touch from the Creator
And His creations
To make the stay here –
The wait here –
A little more enjoyable.
