Poetry

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I breathe the Word for the sake of my spirit.
In fear of the Lord I hope to hear it.
I test myself to see if I'm Father's.
His word helps, along with my brothers.
Can't trust feeling, not even my mind.
The kingdom I'm seeing. His Word is kind.
This is the way, ever so narrow.
No room for flesh, not even the marrow.
All I can bring: my will, my choice.
Jesus I sing, with one lonely voice.
Though He's healed that darkened rift.
I cannot rest on talents or gifts.
Another way to trust in myself,
a wall keeping me from perfect Help.
One day the narrow gives way to broad,
where I'm to be, the kingdom of God.

© 12-5-2010

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