III. Soma
A bright light that’s far away can’t be distinguished from a dim light that’s near
The sunlight blooming at my feet warms me more than a faraway field of sunflowers
I prefer coffee with my love to a theophany of the crystalline spheres
Even though Yahweh could burn my despair away, if His flame were near
Even though His faraway love makes me pine and swell with spiritual desire
I would take five minutes by His side, I would ask my love to leave
If only His dim love would grow brighter than my perpetual grief.
