It seems I yearn for inner things
the smallest kiss from what is true.
I miss you most when outer things
demand I give them what is due.

Torn by edges of this sharp world
I wander inward for your arms.
To find with quite a gasp of shock
that you put them there as an alarm.

Wake up, wake up,
the world has nothing left to give.
Go back into yourself and find
the thing that makes you want to live.

I wish, I hope, I pray, I yearn
that things may take a subtle turn
when I will meet with all that is
and find it all was always His.

Vicki Woodyard