ת פ י ל ו ת ש ל ח ו ל Poem by Frank Witte

Sizzling desert sand,
I talk,
heat of a wasteland,
I walk.

A long path and no end,
forgot it had a start,
led me away, my heart,
eternal mystic friend.

My knees in the sands,
I pray,
I fold lonely hands,
I stray.

My face burns on the grains,
as my body faces east,
and the work of love's yeast
expands my chest in pains.

Heat dries out my glands,
I hear,
God ties lives to strands,
eyes sear.

My tears cry for your name,
arms reach to touch your face,
growing love carves a trace,
done without blame or shame.

Another seven years I will wander,
as clouds thunder and rivers meander.
Another seven centuries of labours,
as my heart's tailored to God's favours.

I know that day I will rise from the sands,
raise my head above gloomy wastelands,
and in my flesh a strong and beating heart,
your hand in mine, and our path a new start.