For we who are in this tent groan, being burdened, not because we want to be unclothed, but further clothed, that mortality may be swallowed up by life.
~ St. Paul’s Second Epistle to the Corinthians 5.4
I don’t usually do this, but I had a bit of poetic inspiration and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to share it here. What follows was actually the end of a longer poem, but the only part worth keeping and sufficient on its own:
In desert nights the soul’s sun shines
and warms and brightens but does not blind.
Deep within such spiritual depths
blooms a beauty that knows not death.
And when my eyes close for their rest,
I’ll sleep without dream, desire, distress.
Though death for a time my body will take,
I’ll continue alive, active, awake.