Things are cloudy in my mind.
Like puzzle pieces without colors or straight lines.
I’m always thinking all the time.
Saps my energy—without asking.
I don’t know how to make it clear.
Don’t know what mixture will cure these many tears.
See a pattern in the dust.
Will you reach Your hand—and raise me up?
I’m in London Fog.
I see some lamplights, but they don’t help at all.
I’m a man who knows The Way.
But what good is knowing when you can’t see through the haze.
Lean against my porch and wonder,
Drink my milk and hear the thunder,
The sun is burning in my eyes, Is there meaning?
There is meaning, so where do I go?
Breathe Your breath in me,
Let my eyes see clearly,
My Love, heal me in Your laughter,
Bathe me in Your joy.
There is mist and air,
I’m flying over endless mountains.