Monday, April 23, 2018

A Voice


A voice with which to sing,
to prick away the sting,
a voice with which to cry,
cry out against the sky.

A voice to defy harsh passerby,
A voice to redeem, to beam
across a wavering dream.

A voice once lost, now saved
A voice not again betrayed.




Burning

I saw a bush that was burning
but not consumed by flames,
I saw a bush that was yearning
but not entrapped by names.

A burning bush it had become
and God spoke from its midst,
and though I stuttered in reply,
I felt I had been kissed.

Thursday, April 12, 2018

Lullaby

I will sing my sorrow a lullaby,
I will sing my pain a tune,
I will soothe my sorrow with a cry,
I will kiss away my wound.

And in the deepest dark of sorrow,
I feel the drops come pouring down,
There is nothing to beg or borrow,
It feels like I will not rebound.

I will sing my sorrow a lullaby,
I will sing my pain a tune,
I will soothe my sorrow with a cry,
I will kiss away my wound.