On Reading Tillich Over Breakfast

This is what I see, and want, for my future,
So many coffee shops and books,
journals and pens - Sitting alone with my
own voices in attempts to harmonize
myself with those others who would attempt
to persuade me toward anxiety, the walls
closing in, the voices of loneliness, the
clamoring, ringing intonations of silence.
I sit here, with my mug and pen, weapons
against the darkness slowly attempting
to encroach upon my sacred spaces -
A sacred space I occupy and know am meant to occupy alone.
Here is where, unexpected, the Universal speaks
to me, and I pause from my breakfast
of quiche and existential theology
to reach up into the Over-Soul
and pull these words down,
like a soft, warm blanket
over my shivering spirit,
and join myself with ideals of
Beauty, Truth, Genius, and Love.
And, for a moment, these voices
inside my head sing in perfect harmony
into my cup of coffee, and I only
hope that feelings and intensities
like these will keep me company
throughout my day, as I try so desperately
to drown out the sobering sounds of silence
outside both these literal and figurative doors.