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PoemsEssayJennifer Bishop
David ChristieDenis Kucharski |
Out Of The DepthsOut of the depths I cry to you , Oh Lord.Let not the buzz of lesser thoughts displace my resolve. Like bees they circle my head; They whirl and dance and I am dizzy. Yet you hear my groan Rising in my battered soul. It pushes past steamy fantasies And devilish conspiracies; Lifted to Your ear --Your holy place. Your love draws it forth. My soul is as dry as a crusty rag Hung on a rusty nail Over a defunct faucet that hisses When called upon to perform. Yet there are moments When my thoughts shudder free, As if jarred by grace. At those moments This inward groan is winged with words And takes frantic flight. Although the madness clamps down And smothers the spark. I know my garbled plea has reached You, (or You have reached down to it,) And I know You never forget. |
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