old poem

02/2006

fingers in my ears, I scream at the top of my lungs
LA LA LA LA, I hear myself, my needs, my fears.
My self, my voice, my unrest.
Justification over sanctification -
explanation over expansion -
comfort isn't always complacency...
These lies I believe, the hope I receive
from myself, my world, my view
I see what I need to see
In your word: I read what I need to read
The louder I talk, the stronger the story
But all I do, all I think, all I say -
Does it compare? distract?
Is it even cohesive with your story?
My habits, our plans, the path: Our way,
at the end of the day, is it what you
Wanted?
Needed?
Desired?
Heeded?

pry me open.
break my locks.
I'll hand you the key -
albeit increasingly reluctantly.
This is Your head, Your heart, Your life, Your girl.
These are more than words -
more than letters falling numbly to the page.
My pledge;
my cry;
my need.
Yes, the tension in responding to Your call wells up -
but the life You offer - in comparison to this -
is far too great.
Open our minds, sweep through our hearts,
invade our futile and failing plans.
Expose our inabilities, capture the You in me.
Rip it out, make it first.
Feed this world
Lord, quench our thirst.