Wandering, Searching

Lord, make me a nomad in this pale world,
Loving more the unseen Dream
In its breathless royal color scheme
That shatters my imagining,
Rather than the present flimsy shadows
That somehow seem more real to me
Under the floodlights of society's appeal
than the beyonder, bolder Truth I trust but cannot see.
Yet how compelling is the thrill
Of finding all the daunting troubles
We used to find concerning
Now absurd in light of this new yearning!

Lord, make me a nomad in this ephemeral place
Where a life like wilting flowers
Changes within seconds from a vibrant being
To a shell that death devours.
Make me unconformed to this world's
gods of "beauty", productivity, and self
the driven-ness to always prove, and win,
and regardless of how rich you are, gain wealth.
Instead, transformed and un-belonging in this temporary skin,
Make me see with heaven-set eyes
Knowing that the membrane between now and someday,
Now and always- is so thin.

~FMH