1 minute read
SEARCHING
Can you search upstairs for me? I Can’t for the life of me find a life for me.
The weight as I search is deforming Me.
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The wait as I search is reforming Me.
The weighty sigh surges – it forms in Me.
The way to size urges – it forms sin in Me.
The way to wise urges – it is informing on Me.
The way The Wise urge … is ill-informed, if you ask Me.
The way of The Wise surges, it is asking, is calling for Me.
The wane of The Wise Search is not asking, it’s dawning on Me.
The way of The Wise hurts, and it must demand that I keep calling for You.
Must I search upstairs for you? If I do I’ll find You, forming too.
Eliza Checkley-Mills
