the flame and the wax

Teach me to cling with fragile tenacity to the Words
     You have uttered so sweetly & tenderly,
for I find that, deep in my soul, my heart tends to
     from the sacred into the desecrated.
Lest the Cross become another beam of wood to place
     within my eye
O Lord, deliver me!

Whisper, once again, Your hope into my ear
That I may return to the land of the blessed
     to sip upon the wine of Your Joy
O Lord, deliver me!

Whither shall I flee, if not into Your ransomous arms?
Whither shall my heart find its rest
     if I lay not my soul upon Your bosom?
For whom was I created
Nay, not for the finest fripperies or the temptingest
     trappings that this body of soil and rust can offer me
O Lord! Deliver me!

Lest my soul become one with the devil's hands that
     d a s h    it
I find I need Your Grace! Let me no longer attempt
     to strike a balance between the flame and the wax,
     the wheat and the chaff
O Lord! Deliver me!

A soul of scraped knees and dirtied bandages
with salt upon my cheeks and a mark upon my heart
Is this my lot? Oh, let it not be so!
I am afraid of standing before You and knowing that I
     did not fulfill Your dreams for me
that I did not enough cry out in faith

Deliver me!

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed