Poetry

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Drowning in my windy mind,
   not hearing the words You speak to me.
I know You’re saying something kind.
You are speaking to my need.
I am here, You are there
   on either side of a fiery gulf.
You have to shout out how You care
   over my quaking self.
 
Then I withdraw to these lines
   to massage my ache.
It doesn’t work. This I find.
I don’t know what it will take.
Little known is the move You make
   toward the words I write.
Your still small voice makes me awake
   like a searching friend in the night.
 
You show up in my words.
I see You in each letter and phrase.
They build me up like gentle girds.
Make me see Your undaunted grace.
How could I flee Your presence?
How can I lose Your love?
I always need Your holy essence.
The Father in Whom I’m borne above.
 
I know now You’ll come near,
   when I’m not where I should be.
Asking, “What are you doing here?”
   this is all Your love for me.
I know now what I should know
   until the day I forget.
Then again You’ll choose to show
   the love where we met.
 
Now I withdraw to these lines.
Maybe there’s something You will say.
It always works. This I find.
You know what it will take.
Mysterious is the move You make
   toward the words I write.
Your still small voice makes me quake
   my holy Friend came in the night.
 
Drowning in Your holy love,
   heard in the words You speak to me.
I know now it’s something kind.
You are speaking to my need.
I am here as You are
   on the same side of the gulf.
You speak softly how You care
   over my dying self.
 
© 2-8-10

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