Tuesday, March 6, 2012

The Unnamed Longing


I long for a song to still with its tongue
The restless void inside of me
But the sputter of rain on the dark window-pane
Increases my melancholy

I wish I could run in the pink April sun
Like I did when I was a wee girl
But a hint of gray has stolen away
The prisms of a stained-glass world

I clench the desire, but cannot quench the fire
Of yearning deep in my chest
For time is a dancer of mysterious answers
Burning in aggrandized quest

I wish I could find that place in my mind
Where wisdom and folly collide
Then I could adjust my vision of dust
And soft in life’s waiting abide

I cannot console the thirst in my soul
I’m prone to the wanderings of man
But I have one hope, for when I cannot cope
I call out to God and He can

© Janet Martin







2 comments:

  1. Love "time is a dancer of mysterious answers."
    This poem feels like an evening prayer to me, I've read it, now I'm off to bed.
    Thank you, Janet, beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank-you HA and good-night, or Good morning, depending on when you read this;))

    ReplyDelete

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