In this quiet place of mine… I think, i write, i cry or pray… thence came this poem. For every heart that can relate, i wish for you to experience warmth and comfort. Bless. Nats

HERE, OUR FEAR.

Here’s that time again Lord,

When I realize all I really have is you,

Neither deep breath, nor sigh, is enough

To grant even a second of relief

When I want so much to run…

Run out of myself and cry

“How can I do this… how?”

I can neither pray nor give praise,

I cannot find the words to speak

 

I cannot convince myself that I know

What, truly, worship means.

Is it spirit?  I am weary.

Is it to live in truth? My guilt is fiery.

Have I anything to offer,

But what you’ve gracefully given?

 

Funny how life changes me,  

Nursery to garden, I grow.

Funny how I look back,

I’m the same no more.

Ironic that challenge is the fire that refines,

And still yet, the demon that opposes.

My friend and foe,

My sadness and joy…

Strange that what I love stands aloof,

And still yet, it feels so near.

Once, I know me, love me and sing praises– to me.

Suddenly I’m lost, confused, and on my knees.

One moment I’m free, the other merely captive.

I have but remain empty,

Seek but run away,

Float but drown.

This is when I want so much to run…

Run out of myself and cry

“Help me Father… help!”

I can neither pray nor praise.

I cannot find the words to speak.

I cannot convince myself that I know

What, truly, worship means.

          Here’s that time again Lord

When much makes little sense.

Light and love, tainted

Strength and hope, discouraged.

Within me rivers flow, and whirlwinds rage

Around me walls rise, and others crumble

Laughs uplift, tears comfort.

Singing soothes, writing heals.

Here… right now,

Neither deep breath nor sigh is enough.

But all I really have is you.

 

                                                          NATS

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