I Miss The Sunday Poem by Didith Marcelo

I miss thee, oh, God.
I want to hear, learn again.
Thoughts that you would intend to say.
To somebody, whom you chose to be your instrument.
I miss the feeling, the love, uncovered tears,
Tears run down from my chicks, cause of spiritual gladness.
I hear a harmonious sound,
undefined-love-expressing to join me,
Synchronizing with the tick of a clock
and I felt that there is another heart that beats with me..
It is you, my Lord, your heart and mine beat as one,
Thank you. Words are very common, but the definition is precisely understandable.
Smooth to say, but I care more bout the strings that bind, attached with genuine love.
The best, your great, enough for me.
I love you. No to lip service.
I praise you, even I die to this very day.