though this basket of abundance has been handed over to me
i flee and look for other containers
yes, perhaps a cup could fill my longing- a mere cup of something that promises only for the journey that takes me back
for they all do this, every single one of them.
oh- for how long must i keep doing this, if my treasure is mine already?
where has He gone now? His flowers do not have the joyful scent to them anymore and His fruits are no longer seen anywhere... but the Son still shines- there's still the moon over me, accompanied with the many stars... His children- precious promises.