The Substance of Things Hoped For

The substance of things hoped for

The evidence of things unseen

It’s all between these ears,

I know it.

And all the time the earth is turning at the same inordinate speed,

And I can’t just stop it,

And climb off.

Trying to work You out,

Reminds me of the new 1000 piece puzzle,

My wife has set up.

Even I know you start with the borders,

Or I know, at least, that’s what’s normally done;

And everything is a mass of colour,

And trying to make these pieces fit,

Sounds as laborious as the metaphor.

And all the time, this heart of mine

Is longing and longing for another glimpse

Of Your reality.