In the Wheat ~ Songs in your Presence
Now every thing is new again.
The winter is past, the ice is breaking,
I can hear the gurgling of the brook.
After spring has blossomed
and summer ripened, You said You would come.
Already I can hear You coming through the wheat
looking for him
who once found You there
and tended You one summer long.
Come, oh, come back to the center
of that boundless golden field.
Come to the place I have kept for You
while You've been gone. Come!
All else will have no meaning
in our solitude,
where stillness and silence
will hide our helplessness
and shield the secret rapture
of our wedded-union oneness
in a ceaseless love embrace.
Blogs by Charles Cingolani