My lips are dry, and I am in a cave of swirling, senseless ooze,
My heart is stolen, and what's left is a purple bruise,
I am scattered in a crumpled heap, but you gather me and tell me your name is "Comfort"
You're transparent and skinless, ineffable beauty,
A providential visitation that carries the weary and welcomes the trampled souls,
Sunless, moonless and restless, I hesitate to bloom,
You hovered and covered, consistently lovered my soul from its hiding place.