There are times in life when I feel like I am looking in. . .
Looking in through a portal, through glass that distorts everything.
I want to see clearly, to understand why,
But I won't, not now, maybe never
On the other side of that glass is reality, is meaning. . .
Is the answer to the mystery of life.
The meaning of suffering, grief, pain. . .
and of joy, celebration, and happiness.
The harder I look, the more foggy and distorted the glass becomes,
until I find myself looking into my own reflection.
When I try to understand, I take my focus off of Heaven. . .
Off of the temporary station that I live and breathe in
A mere vapor is what I am
I must stop looking, striving, struggling,
and start living, gazing upwards,
but then how, how will I see?
How will I see what is in front of me?