Show me, look at you

Your breath becomes disturbed, and you turn your gaze toward the towering mountains in front of you. Your saliva dries up and your tongue is tied. How many ages have passed since you last addressed Him? Your final decision to worship your Creator in your own way has remained suspended. How many barren nights have passed in which you failed to converse with Him despite your efforts? Have you forgotten what solitude between a servant and his Lord is like? Or do you know no way other than the old paths you have abandoned? Once, you were like Hayy ibn Yaqzan on an uninhabited island, so can you tonight be Moses? You whisper in a soft voice that no one else hears, despite the silence around you, but you are certain that He is counting your movements and stillness, and nothing of your inner feelings escapes Him. Your words come out trembling and faint, like a long, exhausted sigh: Oh Lord, Oh my God... Oh Creator... whatever your name is... show me, let me see You!