A Longing

Do not mistake it for some quiet come.

A mother's cry to the child
in her womb:
"Come, come, come,"
is a lullaby.
The father calling out to his
son coming home from war:
"Come, come, come,"
is a rebuke.
The shout of the bride and the groom
to the wedding and the wedding night:
"Come, come, come,"
is a whimper.

Oh! Quiet my soul, my good Master.
I am silent on my bed
and you search my heart
and the only word unearthed is:
"Come."

Ah! I am a pining a groaning a wishing
a yearning a needing a hoping a longing. Ah!

"Come"
Soon
"Come,"
Soon,
"Come--"
Soon--
"Come!"
Soon!
"COME!"
SOON!
Amen
Come
Lord
Jesus.