Some soul in me, before me, in my heart's mind, longs to go back to "God will be all in all."

As far as conscious memory and remembered consciousness goes, I have never been religious. But I know and remember the feeling. There is something that compels me to regard the feeling as almost physical, because I distinctly know that it has always been, and always been before me. "Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone" indeed.

I admire the energy, the surge to tax one's (conscious) self logically, intellectually, spiritually and ceaselessly for an answer. I only wish I too had an answer so sweet, and so sweetly irrefutable.

I do not want a violent awakening. I do not want to be cradled or caressed. I don't need to look back in the sand and know that those singular footsteps in my hardest times, belonged not to me. I don't need the voice in Herbert. I don't need the first or the last, the just or the merciful, the son or the father.

I just need the soul to come back home to me.

I've met the floor you can't fall below. I just want the reason you don't need to go beyond.