Why are You so Perfect?

Why are You so Perfect?

I was 27 when I met you.
It was perfect the way you revealed yourself,
I was ripe; hindsight.

It's 10 years later and I can never seem to get close enough.
And underneath it all a sense of a vast, incredible depth of worship
not yet entered into.

Why are you so perfect, so pure?
Why does holiness seem beautiful next to you.
Holiness, a word that seems so alien to secular ears,
Not even alien, ridiculously irrelevant.

I love you with a love I don't understand.
My faithlessness is an enigma to me,
My words of love rarely matched in action.
Your blood still flows,
Your living water still flows,
Your eyes, always on my eyes, eternally.

This longing to see your face is not religious.

You, being alive, will mean heat and breath and smell.
Oh my God, what will you smell like,
There is a blasphemy in that concept,
And your voice?
In your precious word there is the sound of thunder from your
lips.

I have waited for you in the watches of the night,
Sat in your presence with faith as my guarantee.
My need of you is my very next breath,
And how can I tell this after 2000 years of controversy,
Yet, I am a witness,
To the fruit of you loving me first.