Poetry

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I want to know the love You have
   and not just in my mind.
Such knowledge of life would make me glad;
   such knowledge would be kind.

Show me a love that helps me change;
   lead me to love that grants me the will.
Your heart to make mine rearrange;
   make this restless thing so very still.

Then as my feet know the earth
   I'll truly know Your love.
Then I'll know heaven's mirth;
   my body as Your hand's glove.

You will be my life's foundation;
   I will be Your instrument.
This, to me, is Salvation;
   the joy of the repentant.

It's not enough to have the Name;
   it's not enough to live and breathe.
I am desiring to be changed;
   that I may know You're pleased.

Desiring more than knowledge of words,
   I want to know their very Spirit.
To know my prayers have been heard
   and Your presence when I'm near it.

Love me, Lord, like precious clay;
   may Your hand be in my life.
To love You, this I pray;
   submission, Lord, even in strife.

May all other loves turn gray and fail;
   they will die, while You live on.
The Spirit as the wind, I am the sail;
   carry me, Lord, to the image of Your Son.

© Bob Barra, 9-27-2012

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