In the fresh Jerusalem air
All is quiet
3 am
As my mind wanders back to you.
In the middle of this war
At night it is quiet
The people sleep
But my heart is still in battle mode
Pondering its mysteries
And its yearnings.
Unable to pray
As an outcast
For my duplicity
In loving too much
In this silent air
I pay vigil.
Old wounds from childhood loom near
fresh as ever
the flesh pink and bloody
in the dark stillness
will you be the one?
will you not hurt me?
will you finally not turn the jagged knife?
Trusting the darkness
for sure this will not fail me
restless at 3 am
the mind wanders
back to you.
