friday poetry

While Feeding Eliora…

God, I want to nestle into You.
So often my hunger -
Emptiness -
Causes me to push and kick even as I try to get in closer.

I want to nestle into You.
Bringing my cold hands and legs to you
You warm them again and bring them to life.
Bringing my hungry seeking to you
You nourish.
Bringing my darting, desperate, frantic gaze
You provide a focal point. Still.
Unmoving.

Gulp.
Sigh.

Muscles loosen and go slack.

There is enough.