And another Sunday strike

In stripping off this skin and looking deep inside,I find that I am him and he is me and though I thought I was forsaken I am taken far from here,
to a clearing where all is clear
nearer to thee, my god,
and my god is in these things I see,
what nature places on the table set for me.

To look behind me and see that all the thrashing,crashing brashly through,the things I didn’t know I knew, and knew somehow those things were few and in between this,I see you and you are me and we are what we’re meant to be.

Other things I do not see,hidden from my sight ,
maybe there are more things that I never thought
other things I should have sought out.

Out in the clear now,everything looks different,how my eyes become accustomed to the me that now I know is you.
It’s all very strange.


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