Lord Bring Me Back

 

~ Lord Bring Me Back ~

 

Dear Lord,

Please help me, because I weary,

I cannot make peace with my soul, my whole-

Spirit aches, it is sinking in the dark land-

Which I enshroud over my and that I feel-

So very strongly, as I place my feet into the holes,

Of this little crater beneath my squeezing toes,

Seeking a better life at hand,

Looking for a light beyond which is before me,

Wrenching myself from the holes which my feet,

Grasp onto, perhaps in fear even though,

I do not want to undermine its strength, Lord,

Because it is strenuous an effort really,

For me to attempt in gaining,

Any kind of leverage, over its hilt-

 

Oh Lord, I do not mean to complain of it.

But it has become so difficult for me to feel anything,

Except for the most intense pain, harsh reality-

Which sinks me into this dark, deep hole.

 

And yet, I know that there is pure hope,

That rests with in lily-white lace,

Gold tendrils and pretty pink rays,

Along the evening sun,

Opposite from where I lay,

In my entrenchment, upon the moon,

Buried so deep I cannot find it.

 

I know that you can pull me up, Oh Lord my God,

Because there is a way to hear the angel’s throng,

They lace along the bends and cast,

A molten glow upon the white lava,

That sifts and moats through various semblances,

Of pretty delicacy and other beauties,

Just below the sands,

Of bluest measure that float,

Cast their light upon this pretty boat.

 

Oh, please Lord, if it would be your will-

Rescue me from the danger of my disgrace,

Of not being able to look away from my small hole,

Since I really am not a cut out for this dark moon.

 

I want to be free, I want to live Oh Lord-

But how can I do this,

Without the necessity,

That you can bring to me?

 

I need your staple for my food, Lord,

I need your strength to keep my arms in sinews,

Feverish body a strong pine bough that bends beneath,

The treacherous weather and this- is indeed-

A feverish effort on my part,

For my body . . .

Is like a breaking trough, bends beneath its weight,

The labor making it hot and sweat-tinged,

Or like a tree with its bough unhinged.

 

Of course,

Trees don’t grow on the moon Oh Lord-

Nor do I have your sunlight to ease my pain,

But I beg of you to please,

Help me to ease this suffering,

And come back into your fold,

Your precious unyielding images,

Of love and nourishment,

Once again,

So that I might view the sunlight-

Help me, help me to come back, touch me with a glance,

Your smile and kind eyes shine over my head-

And smooth my feverish hair away . . .

 from my forehead.

 

I need you to bring me back,

Please carry me to your world so that I may never again leave it,

Never to come back here,

To this dark moon, its crater ~

Reviews

[Luke L]

Great expression of your faith and how you count on God to help you