Big Blue Yonder
You hope to meet me in a distant heavenly tomorrow;
A kettle starts to boil.
You catch a glimpse of my face in the moon and stars;
Letters drop through the door.
You call for me in your darkest, loneliest hours;
My shirt it smells fresh, newly washed.
You find brief respite in the words of great teachers;
A cough reminds me to buy some more vitamins.
Your holy mantras sing of love and longing;
The noise of children playing disturbs my restless thoughts.
You search in vain for me on the mountain tops;
When all the time I am here, here in the your valleys and homes.
Eternally present in your heart of hearts.
© David R. Durham
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