Oh Lord my soul doth ache with sorrow
Sorrow from your love
The love that looks to pick us up
When books we tire of
We seek to find your power
And power becomes our god
Our god is that which we contend
Will ease our painful sod
I feel your tears in my heart
To cry out for all to hear
It is not might, nor power great
That frees us from our fear
Your peace, your joy, your love
Are not ours to possess
The intimacy that holds me tight
When I cry upon your chest
It’s you I want to know and love
Not your ways or works to show
You are my friend, I do adore
May others know you so
© 2005 Lisa Biggs Crum
1 comment:
What a powerful poem --
thank you for sharing this prayer with us.
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