I have fallen out of my own pocket.
My own pocket being you, beloved.
Millions like me cry at night
because something is so deeply amiss.
The agony of separation
you have caused us to endure.
You follow our every step, dear God;
you saw what happened to us...
Why, why, why?
Why, why, why are you not running toward us
with all your might
returning to us our glory, our freedom --
which is beyond dispute... our divine right?