poem: Desire

Desire
In the sweetness of the longing, in the bitter of the sigh,
In the atmosphere and firelight, I listen to the lie:
That the path is clearly seen, and the sun shines on the Way,
The moon is just illusion; this is really light of day.

In the decisions and the choices of choosing right from wrong,
I listen for some guidance, and hear an age-old song,
Of dancing by the fire and running in the hills,
Of revelry being worship, an emptiness to fill.

In the darkness of the chamber where the molten lava flows,
I hide myself from myself, and yet He knows, He knows.
In the coldness of the embers, or the pain of iron hands,
He pushes and cajoles me, whispering a Promised Land.

But then the sound of slippered footsteps, a music in my ear,
A touch upon my shoulder - ­She is so very near.
Whispering Her promises by day or dark of night,
She promises Her love and more, embracing me in light.

Yes, even He most powerful of any ever been,
Cannot keep one single one from slipping into sin.
Even He, most powerful, of all the earth and sky,
Cannot keep me, a little one, from listening to a lie.