this is my cry for help

I need to be reminded of who I was when I took my first steps out the door. All I said now follows me around - I'm reminded I'm not like that anymore. I uprooted and miles behind me are the faces and the home I love. You've brought to my attention that I'm slowly changing and becoming what I wanted to stop. Isn't that just like a finite mind, setting out with such righteous indignation? But now I'm at your feet. Could you look at me with some imagination?

The bush before me, I slip my sandals off. I only stopped to look. In the depths of the sea, in the midst of a great storm, I run from you. Isn't that just like a finite mind, setting out with such righteous indignation? But now I'm at your feet. Could you look at me with some imagination?

So remind me why you woke me up and why you wake me every morn, the staff in my hand, held by your love. Just stay close. Because I know in my own mind that I set out with righteous indignation, but when I'm at your feet, please look at me with some imagination.