Just An Idiot

My hands tremble from caffeine
and stress of bearing my soul into writing,
emotional history
becoming distress,
dissimulating reality
only as I have seen it
and as the music blares from the machines
to the earphones,
into my soul.
I find it impossible
to not consider,
to not wonder
and think of how you fare as
one who lives in another world,
so far away
and apart from anything I have known.

I'll be wide awake thinking about the cross
and the sacred bond
that binds the hearts of all who believe
and I wish your heart well in its venture.

It is always silly to base life on dreams
but if all were to dream
and there was hope for only one
my prayer
and the hope I dare
is that this dream continues to blossom
and bloom
bringing you joy
from here until eternity.

From the hands of the Father
may the blessings fill your heart
to such levels of overflowing
that you loose footing
and drift into His arms tonight.