Poetry

---

How do the weak find their strength,
   when they've no strength to bear?
How do the breathless find their breath,
   when the air is so dead here?
I've no strength for my life,
   for the things that I must do.
I'm cut twice, even thrice.
   I'm old for want of new.

But I can move within strength,
   so strange and so unearthly.
Higher life gives me breath,
   knowing it doesn't come from me.

I have spoken, to One unseen,
   beseeching One, once Son of Man.
Though I can't live with spirit lean,
   I find, through Him, I can.
All this strength comes to me
   just by simple prayer.
There's so much, I can see,
   I have strength to spare.

My soul's made rich, moreso wise.
I can strengthen others.
I help them see with inner eye
   the kingdom of our holy Brother.

O, for this Lot that's made me rich!
For Him I sing this praise!
It's affirmed by holy writ,
   I know this infinite grace!

So pray to Him, the Son unseen,
   beseech the One, once Son of Man.
Though you can't live with spirit lean,
   you'll find, through Him, you can.

©  12-9-2010

Philippians 4:13

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE