We are plagued with hearts of discontent.
The experience of God
the experience of love.
Our hearts grow cold.
Something unknown, unexplainable missing.
We hold it for but a moment.
Are we so fickle?
Wanting everything else, but what is right in front of us.
Losing ourselves to numbness, discontent, acedia.
The siren sings, go on and on and on until you never find anything.
Bereft of joy.
Trapped within self. Crisis of faith; crisis of self.
Where do we find You when You are everywhere?
We shut our eyes, close our ears, harden our hearts.
Our desire dies. The wandering heart is not steadfast.
There is only One who is steadfast. Love Himself.
There is an end to wandering, when home is reached.