I know that we are flesh and blood;
We're bound terrestrials.
There is not a hint nor thought
In me, celestial.
And yet the final day they found
You were ephemeral,
I raised my eyes towards the skies
And sought the aerials.
I hoped the blessed, holy book
In truth, was literal.
The yearning, needing wanting hole
Was raw and pitiful.
In vain I combed the cobalt spans
For proof reciprocal
Of an eternal, lasting love
From the ethereal.
My opulence in obstinence
Brought truth from empty skies
The swirling air, the ash and dust
Is only where you fly.
There is no golden field of wheat
And barley where we'll meet
There is no paradise where I
Will once more hear you speak.
The last known home where you reside
Exists in no known creed
You live now in the dreams and thoughts.
That bring you back to me.