But we can’t press our fingers to the earth
to find hope
The holes
Gaping and sore
Inside our chests
draw us down
To gather temporary things from the ground
And try to extend our lives
While we ignore the significance within us
We can fill it
If we can feel it
But we can’t
With numbed minds and stale bodies
We look wide eyed through the trees
for a cure
For substance
When it’s been inside us all along
God we need it,
God, we need it.

And I’ll forever hope that it comes.