To Feel God’s Pleasure

To feel Gods pleasure is to feel another.

Gods work made manifest through man.

Still    one can’t help but want less implicit modes of connection.

Still    one can’t help but want a more explicit mode of touch.

To be trapped in miles of bone, flesh,  and sinew        is to be trapped in a Jungle.

A Jungle and world all its own,     with oppressive heat and danger.

Wondering about the least sound of a bird screaming,   or the movement of foliage,

or the predictive doom of silence.

We hit walls and trip on cracks that permeate throughout our world.

Each bruise, each cut, sets forth a sequence of germination.

This flowering of the soul detonates,    like a missile through the atmosphere.

Exploding beyond that which can be grasped,   explained,   and understood.

Until it reaches and erupts   into an incredible cacophony of

sound,   of color,   and of light,        into a deafening place of beauty and silence.

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