I once read that man is like grass and his glory is like a sunflower in a field. Grass eventually greets the blade and petals turn brown, but the words that drip from Elohim’s lips are eternal. Desire for the honey usually overtakes all other yearning, so I disconnect from the world for awhile and reconnect with God. Though I ache and my lower back caves backward in a painful curve, I discover myself on my knees – praying. Groans and tears frequent these sessions more often than actual words because I assume I seek something deeper, something lasting. I could mumbling and mutter away an hour and have not come one inch closer to this eternal dew, but in my moaning and gasping sobs, I discover this unexplainable peace. It passes all understanding; and ushers me into this lullaby state where I slumber restful and not in a tossing and turning of scattered dreams.