world washed clean...

the world washed clean                

by nighttime's crashing
                   storms

window screens dappled                     
with remnants of Nature's
                    tears

or were those tears mine,
the ones that wet the
                    pillow

the storm without a mere
reflection of the raging tempest
                    within

and now as i see the
world without as fresh and
                     clean

i find myself longing for
that same clarity
                     inside

of purpose and design, of
truth and honesty and
                      hope

and most of all, of love,
connection with and for the
                      world

or at least the little corner
of this cosmos where i
                      reside

a taste of holiness is
all my hungry soul
                      desires

a touch of divine healing
in the form of human
                      flesh

that my self may be washed clean
and walk proudly, boldly
                       naked

into the lovely, dreadful,
difficult, challenging, waiting
                        world