Poetry

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May the things that I write
   proclaim Your awesome Self.
May they come from the Sight
   Your Spirit gave to help.
My words are weak as my heart
   Your grace is their strength.
Compose them as You impart,
   born of Your Holy breath.
 
May I sing the song of me,
   only when I'm in You.
Anything less is falsity,
   I'd rather sing the True.
I ask, dear Lord, make my tongue
   as the pen of a ready writer.
In righteousness point out the wrong,
   if only as Your fighter.
 
I cannot hide it when I fail,
   but Your grace will cover that.
If I'm faithful I will sail.
   Your reward will make me glad.
 
You took my heart, like a chair,
   as a king would take a throne.
Grace, it seems, has met a dare
   to make me as His own.
 
© 10-18-2010
 
 
 
 

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