trembling and empty
courage trying to break through
fighting an endless fight
between my heart and my head
endless tears
unmasking fears
i never realized i had
silence penetrates
the deepest of deep
i try to run
but there is no escape
to save me from myself
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1 comment:
"Thou, O Lord, canst transform my thorn into a flower. And I want my thorn transformed into a flower. Job got the sunshine after the rain, but has the rain been all waste? Job wants to know, I want to know, if the shower had nothing to do with the shining. And Thou canst tell me--Thy cross can tell me. Thou hast crowned Thy sorrow. Be this my crown, O Lord. I only triumph in Thee when I have learned the radiance of the rain."
George Matheson, Streams in the Desert
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