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I want to lie on a green field covered in wildflowers as I feel like one of them.

I want to lie down, close my eyes and stretch out my arms and touch another hand, on both sides, hands I will hold tight and hands that will hold tight onto mine.

And I want to know that those hands I hold are holding other hands themselves. For so it is that we go home, fulfill creation: holding each other through mountains and lakes, under the sun and under the pouring rain.

For in each hand we truly hold the Creator Himself and none others, for there's none else besides Him. 

But when I lie on a green field covered in wildflowers I only see emptiness for as far as my eyes can see. You fill all there is but no one knows. Others only see empty fields and can't feel You in all that is and don't believe in being held and in holding because too busy with turning the soil to pour cement as high as they can to show their importance. 

I was there.

I am there, still. Sometimes. Poking my head out of a flood when the waters only came to nourish the field yet I can't see.

Judging wars I have not started because I cannot see Your name on it. 

Believing one path is better than others because I can't recognize your print on both of them.

Bring me there, oh God. Bring me where I lie down and with closed eyes reach out in certainty of reaching to Your hand and Your hand only, whatever hand I might touch, whatever hand I might hold. 

Bring me there oh Lord, for only You can do this step for me and rip away my fear.

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