The Gurgle and Rush

Deep unto deep?! I feel as if I have but dew drops on my forehead! I've created a postmodern sepulcre of psyche, flesh and paper mache'. Creating it to look a mountain of mud, slopped up and down to tear at the sky yet it only dilutes the veiw of such a perfect blue. I've called it perfect and expected myself to attain it's appearance. If only I knew, I really knew, what these depths are revealing. I can't see the fish but I must be there because visions of this surface are blurring and I cannot breath as I used to. Deep calls unto deep at the noise of Your waterfalls. All Your waves and billows have gone over me. Make the sound of our comunion. Free the rushing waves. POUR OUT YOUR SPIRIT! Only in the gurgle and rush of such violence could I feel You. Only in the gurgle and rush of such profound noise could I truly hear and speak. What violence did it take to connect us first. Let our reuinion be perfected. Let my prodigal wonderings cease and let us be restored. I feel it's time I stopped trying to hold my breath. Let Your blood release my lungs and set my sight. Put Your mouth upon my soul and breath. thank You