In the presence of the Holy,
I can feel my skin contract,
Remembering my every lack,
Shutting out the morning star,
In darkest dark did I mar,
One life lost in melancholy.
In the presence of the Sacred,
Cowering naked and afraid,
In the coldness of the shade,
Shutting out the healing song,
Hiding from that which I long,
One life in darkness captured.
In the presence of the Dying,
Cold silver burning in my palm,
Cold sinner desperate for a balm,
Lashed, gory, crimsoned bloody,
"Take and eat this bread my body."
One life ends its every striving.
In the presence of the Resurrected,
The Son of man with hair of silver,
His embrace makes of me a believer,
Chains tumble from hands and feet,
Face and knees rise from the peat
One life, once desperate and dejected,
Is loved,
Is lived,
Unto it's Lord.
No comments:
Post a Comment