Only Until I Find You (The Low Roar of Ramparts)

Down from the high castle of my stony intellect,

out from the deep caverns of my ponderous false heart.

I am alive and this bright golden field of my wheat soul is you.

So far removed, with your voice and hands hidden

amongst this multitude of gentle strands,

but only until I find you are we one in the distance.

With God and the thought of your eyes, I am a divine Trinity.

We three are all instead of one until I realize

that these words are the same truth: we simply are.

I am an empty sea in this fortress of my being;

without your light to rise and set with me,

I am the last echo of a beautiful phrase

reverberating off the walls in these,

the caverns of my heart.

Vessels cross me in rippling storms,

yet not one casts a shadow on its way to

some other inlet or bright ocean.

In searching through this field of my soul for you

there is the wholeness

and the insatiable void of God.

I cannot find any lie in life

because there is nothing, nothing to hide.

To find you here is every deep joy that never departs;

there is nowhere else to be.

Down from the high castle of my stony intellect,

out from the deep caverns of my heart to breathe a little;

to enjoy the sound of birdsong like your whispering words,

the taste of truth like your mouth and the touch

of the wind in your hand,

carrying with it the sight of your soft hair

and the scent of your skin past the low roar

of tumbling ramparts.