Yearning

There is a yearning,
elusive,
set deep within my soul:
residing
in the frayed ends;
in the healed
and the untouched places;
aching
for unfulfilled wholeness
and something else.
Unspoken words of the
monsoon
roaring, aching, sweeping
wrecked
and desperate
in the noise of need;
All the unanswered
shouts
and whispers;
even Silence's dreams
spin out to some
empty
equation—though sometimes
You bring a cascading
peace
a potent heartbeat of
joy
...But I still need
more
of You.
You fulfill,
but in this season or lifetime
(I couldn't say which)
every pulse asks
more.