The haunting of words
rooted in love, growing out
from the breath of passion that is
Yours, Yours given, Holy Spirit inspired.
They lift weary souls to wonder
Create awe, forgiveness evasive
or so it appears to be…
But words, Your words
bridge that broken bough
that far fell from its height
It became lost, only to later be found.
Once again Your words are
known to be healing
and to bring an irreversible mend.
The gifts of the scribes and poets
Or is it a calling…?
to forever chase and wait on those elusive
words
that cry out to be written?
Oh…
Coin this chalice of affection that
Desperately seeks to be found
and known.
Give it an utterance in Your words.
These yearnings are currently lost and disposed
to wait in the abyss of my mind for
my words that may never come.
This gift
or calling
wants to be a curse
one that holds me ever in its grasp.
But no…
it is one of freedom
and restoration
and a voice to my soul You have redeemed
when these words are brought and found.
