Lord, the edges of my mind and the shape of my world are as fuzzy as the night mist.
I�¢ï¿½ï¿½m not sure where I am, often, where I am going, why I think the thoughts I do and whether it�¢ï¿½ï¿½s worth searching for something.
It�¢ï¿½ï¿½s like like being in a daze without any sense of direction or clear road ahead.
It�¢ï¿½ï¿½s like wrestling with the sand in an endless desert.
Is there some old angel in the woods who can grab me by the throat, and twist my wandering mind until I feel the real, taste the true, wonder at the world and get a glimpse of where to go tomorrow?
Would you take me on, Lord, show me the nerves of nature and shock me into senses until I fell the way? Or will you just shine on trees and forget about me?
Well, I won�¢ï¿½ï¿½t let you go until you bless me, bless me with the instinct of a bird who knows who he is and which way to fly when it is winter.
I won�¢ï¿½ï¿½t let you go
I won�¢ï¿½ï¿½t!
