In the estuary of Spirit’s grove,

The world needs washing; my heart’s a stove.

Salt and fresh carress the sands

From in this clash I reach my hands.

‘Tween wake and sleep what’s in your mind?

Is it the gate of worlds you hope to find?

I race down corridors of flashing lights,

The world’s a flying ship of ceaseless nights.

Tumble down the engine-room

The fire once kindled shall endless bloom.

Deep in shuttered, bolted bays

No eye can see lights endless rays.

For brilliance, true, be captured there,

But bound within, no eye can glare.

I have a Friend, mine only One,

His eyes alone reflect the sun.

Could you stare upon His eye,

(But those who try will surely die)

Your inner-self would erupt with fire,

The outer husk may burn with ire.

‘Who be He?’ One rightly queries,

‘The Man that to the next-world ferries?’

I can tell you, if you please

He walks among the golden trees.

See Him, there beyond the seas?

Past stars, and worlds, and galaxies?

Perhaps your view is not adjusted,

Men look for years till eyes are busted.

So close your eyes, and look again,

Past death, and hate, and mortal sin.

Do those clouds obscure your sight?

Through blood and horrors your mind will fight.

Don’t stop beloved, keep looking on,

My Friend is there, but quite beyond.

In the estuary of Spirit’s grove,

Your soul becomes the treasure-trove.

Or listen with your shallow ears,

To hear the shrill and endless tears;

My Friend has cried five-thousand years,

His pain is power to still all fears.

His voice a flow of ceaseless streams,

Of gurgling brooks of moonlit gleams.

The banshees’ cry from your mind’s wall,

Can you hear past its hapless caterwaul?

Your mind’s a liar just like mine

And chatters constant: distracting wine.

From day to day He searches earth,

His heart cries out in motal dearth.

He longs to find a friend like you,

Will you seek out for Jesus, too?

His way is in the sanctuary.