Just as the artist who works best with water colors occasionally ventures into painting with oils, so I find myself wanting to leave the comfort of prose and place words into a different medium. Hence the following:
Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord,
Silently You suffer scorn,
Power and might disdaining.
By Your suffering and death
You satisfy the thirsty.
You make the wounded spirit cry:
“Oh, Lamb of God have mercy.”
So, Christ, I come and seek Your Grace
My sins stand e’er before me.
I would not dare to face Your Face
Lest you came to restore me.