Who stills the souls of those whose hands are stealing?
Where recalled memories, remember only psuedo feelings
Departures and arrivals on a nightsky ceiling
Tilt falsely dropped-in precepts, reveal asbestos eggshell peelings
come crashing down to pride to form a still blue ribbed space,
inside a small veined heart an open whimpering stent does brace
my weak cry,
His voice is felt,
and heard in soft reply , “Arise. My Love illuminates. Don’t cry.”
I prayed a prayer to God, in silent weeping
“Jesus, please Love me and forgive me. I do believe this.”
The after prayer flows forth in kind…..”and give me faith to make these words my deeds.”
I’d like to think he answered….answers…..time and time again
I know He does restore the broken heart to beating, the lips to bleating praise,
the crooked smile to blessing and to feeling. Again, again, again….. He does.
Because He lives….The sore bruised feet walk extra miles to climbing
The hands rise singing, loving Him and others kindly
His promises are sure, where ours oft fail in loud display.
I know His Grace because of all my foolish deeds, and ways.
And so I kneel in this my best attempt at prayer,
Though not at home, I take communion traveling here
Amen to blessed rest, holy reunion. In gratitude I say, Amen.
Thank You for doing that which only You have done
In His Dear blessed name, the name of Jesus, Holy One
Dear Father, I Thank you, for giving us Your Son.