Infinite happiness and pleasure
Oh, joy of this kind is opposed to what my pride seeks to pervert
with deceitful desires, merely enticing all five senses
But I can’t catch this One thing I so need,
I have only to be captured
Crushed to pieces to be remolded, or
Better said: before I can live,
I must choose to be dead
To see and be seen: that’s a cheap thrill
an itch for eternity
scratching just can’t heal
Cuz my itch is more than irritation
a disease deeper than I can feel
I can feel Bartimaeus saying, “Son of David, please heal!
Have mercy on me…let me see!”
And He the all-seeing eye
Gave sight to the blind, so they,
so we, could see His glory.