Bliss
A Sunday Poem
Knowing the creator
Being the created
Purpose-filled vessels
Who have long awaited
For purpose is rare
When fulfillment is everywhere
Instant gratification
Void of substance
Full of air
When you are satisfied
But not fully happy
Natural hunger subsidized
But the inner spirit is scrappy
For the inner spirit isn’t natural
Belonging on a different plane
Food and drink won’t aid its pain
Fame and money are both natural canes
These are all natural remedies
Sprit hunger requires spirit food
Communication with another plane
Like music that fits your mood
For once you realize
You didn’t come from nothing
There’s an almighty creator calling to you
His bliss will aid your suffering