you are my light and my hope
why should i fear?
you are my life and my strength
why do i tremble?

when i contemplate surrender
to my dread of the unknown,
i hold tight to you
and your strength gives me strength.

i only ask one thing of you,
just this one thing:
that i may be welcome in your house
all the days of my life,
to dwell in your innermost place
beneath the softness of your wings.

I seek your shelter
when i am wracked by hardship and disquiet;
from your deepest depths
I will sing hymns to the darkness
with openness and love

do you hear my song?
don’t you hear me when I cry to you?
do not turn away –
i seek you endlessly,
i turn constantly toward your light.

even in my darkest moments
of this i am sure:
I am never alone,
yes, even if my father and mother
abandoned me, I know you are there
to gather me up

guide me in your ways,
lead me down the paths
of wholeness and peace,
remind me that no matter
how far i may stray
there is always a road
to return.

though i don’t always see it
i will trust in your goodness
right here, right now
in the land of the living.

hold on to your hope
and be strong –
the season of our return
is at hand.

photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org

though i am pursued by
my desires,
i lack for nothing.

you shepherd me
past all want;
you take me through lush pastures,
you bathe me in still waters
and replenish my spirit.

you guide me into
wide open vistas and
lead me through valleys
of deepest darkness;
my steps fall sure
and true.

you set my life before me
as a sumptuous banquet;
i feast on your goodness,
and am filled to overflowing.

even when hunger grips
my soul,
i know you are near;
coaxing me back,
drawing me close,
beckoning me
home.

i’m so tired tired of loving you
like a scared and lonely child, so
desperate to behave,
to follow the rules,
to say the right words, to
think proper thoughts.

so i can’t help but ask:
is it better to surrender or to obey?
to fear or to be afraid?
to serve or to live in servitude?

should i try to believe in you
or accept that you are
existence itself?

“Storm at Sea,” Ivan Aivasovsky (1899)

in such a vast universe
can you even feel
the grief of
one shattered heart?
do I dare presume
it might even make
a difference?

please don’t turn away,
don’t fill my life with disregard,
don’t let my grief drift like
a battered wanderer
refused sanctuary at
every turn.

i’m not praying for rescue
for i know this brokenness
is mine to bear.
i pray only for the faith
that somehow you can hear
this sad song
and that in some small way
it matters
to you.

so much need
in the world and
so much talk,
so many kind
duplicitous words
in response to
so much deprivation
and want.

don’t let me fall
into the speech of
of the pleasant and
cynical,
from the words that
serve only to increase
my own comfort while
keeping the pain of
others at bay.

teach me to speak
your truth:
words that resonate like
a silver string
forged and refined to
utmost purity,
words that pierce the
hard shell of equivocation,
words that reverberate
with raw precision,
words that create
whole worlds
anew.

Women’s liberation rally in Miami, 1972. (Abbas/Magnum Photos)

the oppressed are your chosen –
their cries
hymns of praise to
the source of liberation.

whenever you hear our sad
psalms of despair, the
dirges that affirm that
persecution is our destiny,
turn us
show us the arc of history
that bends inevitably
toward justice.

open our eyes to
the graveyards of nations
whose oppression has
rebounded upon them
whose insatiable desire was
their final ruination.

help us to understand the source
of our true power –
not in the flame of human cruelty that
inevitably flickers and dies,
but in the inexhaustible fire
that burns in the hearts
of all who struggle
to be free.