We all are born into the world looking for someone who is looking for us.
-Curt Thompson MD
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The preacher said, God longs for us.
That I’m a pearl in the marketplace,
A treasure buried in a field.
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My nose twitches.
I pretend it itches,
Nonchalant.
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He said that I long to be discovered.
That I’m a lamb in a ravine,
Bones in a valley, Lazarus in the tomb.
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And my heart backs into a corner,
Guarded by my 8th grade self
With lightning-fast reflexes.
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Shhh!
Don’t talk about longings! My heart may hear you.
Don’t hint about beauty or friendship or ballgowns or fairy wings or Audrey Hepburn or Song of Solomon.
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Ackeldiddimopplevay!
Don’t be quiet either! My heart might tune in.
Don’t suggest walks in solitude or listening to rain. Not children napping or leaves clapping or water lapping or the linnet’s wing.
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Above all else guard your heart.
Set a sentry at the entry
Lest something get in,
Lest someone get out!
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Lest God Himself buys the field
and digs me up.
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