Lord, I have this feeling,
So descriptive of my soul,
And I'm feeling the aroma
Of desire to meet the goal;
I remember lemonade,
Cool air of rainy days,
Peace beneath the thunder
Defining my new ways,
Describing who I am now,
With coffee shops inside,
Playing smooth and big-band jazz
So my heart can run and hide.
Here I am-- I feel it,
And I know that this is me.
But when I leave the doors
The feeling tends to flee.
What next? Lord, why do you
Expect me to go on
When who I am lives only
A moment, then is gone?
Must I carry tea leaves?
Coffee beans in my perfume?
Live in a state of indie rock,
Or should I just assume
This passion is my thorn
To be overcome with grace?
If your grace is thus sufficient,
Will I never leave this place?
Lord, I have this feeling
And I will not rush to leave
Until you have convinced me,
Until my soul believes.
I remember peace of mind
In God's coffee shop to teach
My distracted heart to rest and know
The feeling's within reach.
This ephemeral feeling
I can barely understand
Is who I am, soul-searching
With coffee cup in hand.
postscript
Coffee-shop soul-searching. Taking time this summer to define who I am. A moment of peace and hot tea, before plugging my nose and jumping back into the flurry of college life.