To The Paradise I Want To March Poem by Dominic George

I want to go to that place so near
But it is still out of my reach
My hands just can't push up the gear
How I sore like a rotten peach
It is so close the place of dwelling
And He is not hiding
Yet I cannot see the face
Of Him who sees me take a rest

The road leading to the dwelling site
Is partially out of everyone's sight
The pursuers like I can only see
Through the illumine graces from He
They creep up in my inner desires
Poking me to fight the fires

You see this flesh is very weak
And my will is not yet adamantine
The reasons I'm such a freak
Dragging like an empty tin
Discouraging blows are from all sides
And I don't always cleverly decide
Though the graces point to the where
But it seemed my flesh loathe the Way

Is it really just my flesh?
Does my mental play some parts?
This delirium is sometimes too much
That logics and reality feel out of touch
Stop! That is what you would tell me
If I must avoid becoming crazy
But
I sincerely want to go to the place so near
Unfortunately it is still out of my reach
Where so many friends live without fear
Because God's face illumines on each
And they sparkle like bright glasses
Through them the dazzling light passes

I want to join them who sing and praise
With the angels joyfully eternally gaze
The Face of the dweller though is near
Is sorrowfully unattainable with weak gear