i yearn for the day when i will meet you
unencumbered by this temporal tent of sin.
i long to stand before you,
the impurities singed away
from our entangled spirits;
the lumber removed from our eyes.
i want to know the essence of you,
the pure seed that was encased in filth
when Adam chose to eat the apple.
i desire true communion,
free from the corrosion of this world;
to be known as i am known.

i catch fleeting glimpses of how it'll be,
now and then -
like watercolors splashed on
the fading mists of morning;
like the scent of perfume carried on
a soft summer breeze.
the sacred lies just beyond my reach.
my fingertips brush sanctity,
but it eludes my mortal grasp.

the genuine rests within
a knowing smile and
a howling lament.
it inhabits the spaces between
all encompassing mercy and
total, stinging punishment.
it gazes at me through the eyes of
my most beloved friend and
my most hated enemy.
it exists in the chasm dividing
my strength and my weakness.
it remains unattainable
and painful.

i ache for the day when
we will cross through
the muddied reflections
that encase us
in suffocating shells of iniquity.
i dream of passing through the looking glass,
of seeing you unfiltered and undistorted,
of being understood beyond understanding.

and in that instance
i will gaze at your soul -
the flesh burnt away -
beyond a mirror dimly.