If I could describe
The space between lips
Would I cease to use words
Or bother to speak
Would I walk with wings
And pray with the meek

If I could describe
The space between breaths
Would I cease to need bread
Or year for the wine
Would I hear His heart
And know we're Divine

If I could describe 
The space between hands
Would I cease to seal shame
Or bother with hurt
Would I love nothing more
Than bodies from dirt

If I could describe
The space between lines
Would I cease to see black
Or bother with white
Would we heal held hate
And fill holes with light

If I could describe
The space between weaves
Would I cease to doubt Son
Or bother with fear
Would I make my peace
With what we have here

If I could describe
The space before love
Would I cease to know faith
Or bother with The Boy
Could I have met You
And come to know joy

Chasing highs
I thought you were too far
Floating away
On your little white cloud
With beauty struggling
To keep up
Swimming in sky
I wondered
What it would be like
To touch the
Untouchable
To rest with the divine
On the only pillows
Made for the mystery
That was your love
And the thought
That we ever needed to go
Chasing Highs

When
Amidst the search for words,
You stumble upon sentences
Made from something other
Than that which you were
Desperately seeking,
And realize that
Poems can never actually 
Be written.
They can merely condense
From the fragments of Self
Birthed with the first
Moment
When all there was, was
The Word