Thursday, November 6, 2008

no words come


I stretch out my hands to thee:
my soul thirsts for thee like a
parched land...
Teach me the way i should go
for to thee i lift up my soul.

(Psalms, 143.6,8.)

1 comment:

Escher Dashiki said...

favorite. life-changing. a couple of years ago in CA, i would lay stoned with friends-chinese food scattered on the shag rug, leaky faucet playing rhythm on mismatched dinnerware-and Santa Sangre would play on loop in our heads & on the screen. so brilliant and sad.