Clouds of a Soul

Purity and cleanliness so white
it lives in a kingdom
built in forever.

I stare from the house of my motives.
My face soiled
from sleeping with dogs,
that lick the neck
of my sins.

More things, newer cars, more sex,
drink this, smoke that.
I become, what I will not stand against.
A worshiper of what jolts the senses.

A fugitive... from a God
who longs to hear my voice
in his garden.
Delighted if I rest in his shadow....
Safe for eternity, from the debts
of my wrong doing.

The eyes of a sermon
search for movement
In the clouds of my soul.
Ancient scriptures
echo the hammering of nails
from long ago.

Fastening my sins
to the lamb given for me.
The key that unlocks
the shackles of polluted wells.

The only freedom...
from the beautiful lover
of wanting more.

D.Hiles