Ima thinking

I feel as a Biologist that I am in a particular pursuit of the Father’s Heart.
I long to know the depth of every brushstroke, the tension in every thread of the tapestry-
I long so much to know the painter, to feel the weaver’s hands, that I can’t let the art remain untouched, unexamined. I must know Him.
I must find Him in vibrating webs and crumbling strata.
Death is too damn long to wait
for my urgent heart and starving mind.