Father, I come on bended knee
even though they're “bone on bone,”
as sorrows often seem to flee
when I bow down before your throne.
Restless worry or sleepless nights
cannot provide that sweet release
which floods a soul with rich delight
and fills a weary heart with peace.
You place a song within my breast
and joy becomes a welcome guest;
fret and turmoil dispersed with ease
when I fall down upon my knees.
2nd H. M., Galaxy of Verse
Birma Castle Award,
Fall/Winter, 2012
Categories:
birma, faith, prayer,
Form: Rhyme