I've forgotten what my name is, it could be one of many
everywhere I'm turned, I'm happy then with any.
I do not see a thing, all is Your face to me
showing me what we've become in our own mystery.
Ever seen so clearly, I'm lost and You abound
no questions in my mind, while all You, shown, is found.
My extended thanks my joy, You instill in each responded trance
You move me to, and it is You who fills to reach acceptance.
Your perfect instants shown, so no other could contain,
You turn me in my circle, removing me from blame.
In this Wholeness of You, Your company to keep,
to be woken in the morning and it is in You I sleep.
'Mine' has been usurped with praise, like it never was at all,
grey waters all forgotten, except to laugh at my own fool.
The past is changed in front of me, there's nothing left behind,
such vision placed into my eyes, the same which are so blind.
I'm a miracle of indecision, in which You decide the best
I eat You in my breakfast and can only find Your vest.
My trousers full of patches, which You prepared for me,
designed, tailored and 'known' before, we even remembered a factory.
Held inside Your largeness, to see and know nothing at all,
my sight is all through Your eyes and so love to be your fool.
A most majestic foolishness, as shadows fall and lights are freed,
You, the only One obliged to, prepares every tended need.
Mine is weakness and stupidity for what purpose it can,
when for me, it's You who praises, You make praise what I am.
Adding your comment:
silly man
Love, Lane
