Poetry

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Happy are my words, each and every syllable
Hope in every song, falling short of parable
With radiant heart and equal joy,
I sing of the One Who's True
With failing writ from failing man,
I choose to give Your due

Glory in my write, or I write in failure
Glory in my flesh, You who are my Savior
Redeem the time as I redeem my word
Redeemer of my life, You are my Lord

I find I write of greater things than I can imagine,
For I simply write of the great I Am
With heart full of eternity,
I find I can't write of all Your glory

My words fail and falter, while Yours live on
You're my inspiration, by which I'm undone
Undone I'll gladly be, for there I find You;
even better, You found me, equally true

I sing to You, for You sing to me;
Your song of bluesy love, blood upon the tree
My God and King, my own hope despairing,
My days will ever sing of Your caring.




© Bob Barra, 2-6-08

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