a poem to my LORD
(I am awake – He is here. I kneel.)
He refreshes every hour.
(I am a boy, healed by His love)
it is a quiet peace – a joy that enters my core.
(He is my breath, my song)
The low hum of a string quartet – so soft as they play slowly on the lowest of strings with the chamber filling completely, resonating.
(He knows me. I am a man in Him)
Pulling me, turning my face – speaking into me, “Come”.
(I am in the world but not of this place)
To embrace the way it feels…on a cold winter’s’ day, as the sun shines brightly in a clear blue sky and to find a place inside, at a window…warm; with the sun heating up, radiating through the panes as it heats my face like summer. Hot enough to remove all cold, all doubt.
A warm room.
He is that.
I never want to move – this is who I am, and this is all that I am.