My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God? —Psalm 42:2
In about five minutes
my eyes will be closed,
my cheek will be pressed
against the white cotton
Comforter yielding to sleep,
that bone-weary medicine
bringing the truth into focus,
that gentle shepherd
of nighttime contours
lighting my way
and inhabiting a dream,
that midnight moon glow
bringing the blanket
near my chin
where love lives
between my face
and the pillowcase.