“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.” Jeremiah 29:11-14a NIV
A Seeker’s Return by Gerald T. Ching
Lingering in the wings of a forgotten fortress,
A Seeker’s Return by Gerald T. Ching
Lingering in the wings of a forgotten fortress,
patiently I wait for you to come calling.
Peering out the window of the tallest tower with a hopeful heart,
patiently I wait for you to come calling.
Watching the lone road that leads to my doorstep,
patiently I wait for you to come calling.
Standing in the doorway with soulful eyes,
patiently I wait for you to come calling.
1. In the swirling depths of my heart, I sit and wait, patiently expecting a visit from the one I long to be loved by. The endless hallways here are ever changing; the pathways are ever tedious; only one has the key to my locked heart. Wandering aimlessly through these burdensome corridors, visceral malicious feelings parade their ethereal forms, hoping to leave the imprint of their essence within my broken down spirit. Relentlessly their evil desires dirty the air, the stench of their decay disrupting the natural order of life. Mercifully, the fragrance of love floats in, disbanding the malignancies back into the shadows. Floating through the still night, musical melodies shower me in a waterfall of this love.
2. Miles upon miles of wire crisscross across the globe, connecting all. Whispering in heated conversations to one another of love and of pain, the endless barrage of words bounce and ricochet off the walls of this hollow existence with the longing for more reverberating throughout, and then deteriorating to nothing more than the echoing ramblings of conspiracy. The exchange rate of love inflates as each soul settles for a more physical love, a lesser love. Off in the distance a bazaar buzzes with seekers searching for bargains while workers restock their shelves hoping to catch the eyes of all who pass. People mill about laboring to take care of their daily tasks. Like puppets they purchase the empty promises that line these shelves. Sitting on the highest of shelves, love rests with the other rare and exotic treasures. I see you wandering past the many stands; hurriedly I make my way towards you.
3. Gold and silver rings decorate your nimble fingers, platinum and pearls ride the curve of your neck; fanciful clothes adorn your supple soft skin, encumbering your spirit, hoping to fill the emptiness that is within your soul. A piercing whistle assaults the waiting crowds as a train pulls into the market. Weaving through the masses, we make our way on board. Hiccupping and hollering on the crowded train, your twisted ways of expressing affection batter my brow; your words shatter my already fragile spirit. Hours tick on through the endless maze of tracks, with passengers forever boarding, but rarely leaving. Hope and longing ride this train hand in hand, one never releasing its grasp of the other. My longing has consumed me to the point of obsession. Blindly I now walk, led by the gleam of golden idols.
1. In the swirling depths of my heart, I sit and wait, patiently expecting a visit from the one I long to be loved by. The endless hallways here are ever changing; the pathways are ever tedious; only one has the key to my locked heart. Wandering aimlessly through these burdensome corridors, visceral malicious feelings parade their ethereal forms, hoping to leave the imprint of their essence within my broken down spirit. Relentlessly their evil desires dirty the air, the stench of their decay disrupting the natural order of life. Mercifully, the fragrance of love floats in, disbanding the malignancies back into the shadows. Floating through the still night, musical melodies shower me in a waterfall of this love.
2. Miles upon miles of wire crisscross across the globe, connecting all. Whispering in heated conversations to one another of love and of pain, the endless barrage of words bounce and ricochet off the walls of this hollow existence with the longing for more reverberating throughout, and then deteriorating to nothing more than the echoing ramblings of conspiracy. The exchange rate of love inflates as each soul settles for a more physical love, a lesser love. Off in the distance a bazaar buzzes with seekers searching for bargains while workers restock their shelves hoping to catch the eyes of all who pass. People mill about laboring to take care of their daily tasks. Like puppets they purchase the empty promises that line these shelves. Sitting on the highest of shelves, love rests with the other rare and exotic treasures. I see you wandering past the many stands; hurriedly I make my way towards you.
3. Gold and silver rings decorate your nimble fingers, platinum and pearls ride the curve of your neck; fanciful clothes adorn your supple soft skin, encumbering your spirit, hoping to fill the emptiness that is within your soul. A piercing whistle assaults the waiting crowds as a train pulls into the market. Weaving through the masses, we make our way on board. Hiccupping and hollering on the crowded train, your twisted ways of expressing affection batter my brow; your words shatter my already fragile spirit. Hours tick on through the endless maze of tracks, with passengers forever boarding, but rarely leaving. Hope and longing ride this train hand in hand, one never releasing its grasp of the other. My longing has consumed me to the point of obsession. Blindly I now walk, led by the gleam of golden idols.
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