Out the Soul of God

Out the soul of God, my love: I’m electrified. I remember

Such rapture—a fever untamed: book after book. And

The journey is incomplete. Such craft, a secret soul, a

Frantic ghost. Now I ponder—a river yonder—my past.

How many mornings fraught with anguish! Indeed, the

Waves woke flame. I sit—to feel—majesty. We’re so

Still—in our passion. Every word—interrogates—soul.

And never this friction—once upon an email. Such

Rapture—a fever untamed: fear after fear. But venture—

The soul of God, a vat of flames. And I see a portrait—

Made of gold, a brilliant dove. In truth, the fire lives—a

Fleet of waves. But so many tears—the beauty burns.

I’m alive—this flame—peering at sanity. So much to

Gain, my silent lark.