Colin F. Jones

~ God and War ~

What is this place? It seems to beckon me.
I cannot see it, yet it seems it’s there.
Tis not like fruit which hangs upon a tree
And yet like fruit it seems that I must share.
I cannot touch it though I reach to touch
And drawing back my hand I’m urged again
To grasp translucent light that can’t as such
Be felt without a knowledge of its pain.
I look within my palm see emptiness,
For nothing good rests there in my bare hand.
So what was it I felt that so impressed?
Tis not here now, so I don’t understand.
And yet, it seems, I felt this gentle dart
Hit me in the chest! Here near my heart!