Apr 2020
Bawling like clementine’s dripping citrus,
Pulp dribbling out our mouths; our first attempt to peel words
From our tongues an ache, perhaps trying to articulate a longing
For the Sunshine Hands that plucked us from that great tree
And peered at us with Celestial eyes.
Pulp dribbling out our mouths; our first attempt to peel words
From our tongues an ache, perhaps trying to articulate a longing
For the Sunshine Hands that plucked us from that great tree
And peered at us with Celestial eyes.
“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.” - C.S. Lewis
This poem was inspired by this quote by C.S. Lewis. It has always resonated with me a lot. Whenever I read a beautiful poem, or scripture or see a beautiful painting or have a meaningful conversation, I have these moments of longing. I think it’s because beautiful things help me to feel closer to God, and I start to get an inkling of what I’ve been missing my whole life.
This poem was inspired by this quote by C.S. Lewis. It has always resonated with me a lot. Whenever I read a beautiful poem, or scripture or see a beautiful painting or have a meaningful conversation, I have these moments of longing. I think it’s because beautiful things help me to feel closer to God, and I start to get an inkling of what I’ve been missing my whole life.
