Longing: A Poem

Longing

I cannot rely

on anything

but the power of God

to bring about

what I most deeply yearn for

during the quiet prayerful hours

of the morning

before the active day

   brings along its distractions

     and I tend to lose touch

with the yearning itself.

‘Tis the longing that matters,

more real

than worldly desire

   and rebellious proclivities.

God knows

  my soul-ache,

God knows.

The Son thirsted;

  God knows I thirst

for what I fear

I will never attain

   save for His grace.

What would happen,

I wonder,

if all the yearning in the cosmos

were united

   to the single parched

     and aching dryness

in the mouth

of the Crucified?

Would we,

could we

hasten

the arrival

of divine deliverance

  for all whose pain

throbs

   night and day?