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Dana Smith Poem
My God, You gave me Solomon’s own mind
A well of truth, so deep, so rich, refined.
Yet waves of war have beat upon my shore,
With wounds that shake me to my very core.
They come with snares—emotions torn and tried,
With whispered lies that mock and pierce my pride.
They touch my flesh, they crowd my weary sleep,
And still You watch, while I’m too weak to weep.
I know You, Lord—intimately, I’ve prayed,
But now it seems Your light has turned to shade.
Am I a pawn within some holy game,
A vessel marked with sorrow, shame, and blame?
They call me wicked, false, and yet I bleed—
These wounds bear witness to my silent need.
I feel defeated, torn by inward strife,
O God of mercy, breathe into my life.
Restore the heart that once burned pure with fire,
Revive the hope that sin would now expire.
Cure every thirst that draws me from Your side,
And heal this soul that’s wayward, double-eyed.
My hands are shaking, yet they reach for You,
Deliver me from all I think and do.
Addiction chains me, shame and guilt conspire—
But You, O Lord, are still my one desire.
So lift me, cleanse me, cast out every fear,
And let Your Spirit draw and keep me near.
Though crushed and low, I know that You still reign—
My God, my healer—bind and break these chains.
Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2025
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Dana Smith Poem
My Lord and my God,
Do not turn away from me;
Do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.
I have grieved You time and again,
And in full knowledge,
I have chosen the path of bitterness and wrath.
But You, O Lord, are not like me—
You are slow to anger, rich in mercy,
Overflowing with steadfast love.
So I fall at Your feet,
Appealing to Your compassion.
You were ready to deliver me from evil,
Yet I walked willingly into the shadows.
You filled my cup with lovingkindness,
But I drank instead of hatred.
All day I wrestle with this thought:
“Surely, You have withdrawn Your Spirit from me.”
Why else would my soul groan in anguish?
How could Your holiness dwell
In one so defiled?
Yet even now, if You still hear me,
O God of my salvation,
Do not be silent.
Speak again to my soul.
Restore me by Your grace.
Renew a right spirit within me.
Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2025
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Dana Smith Poem
Am I not Jerusalem?
Did I not give myself to many?
I chose to lay with wolves
And apart from you was broken;
I confessed my great transgressions,
You were quick to forgive and bless me
And bring me to remembrance of
The Word that You have spoken.
My soul does pant for You;
I confess I've been impatient
My heart was snared, my Jealous God,
But I give it now to You.
From in the womb, You taught me wisdom;
Even then, You spoke Your Name.
You are my faithful Lord and Healer,
You wash me clean and make me new.
Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2025
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