Monday, August 25, 2003

The words I prayed

If only I could be that man.
The one who knows what to say
When she cries.
I fear that each silent second
Ticks away
And I have nothing
To give.

Humility sinks in
When proud orations
Seem trite and meaningless.
Like the Hypocrites
I long to only
have to be seen
Not taken seriously.

A tear hits my chest
As expectant ears
hope that words will come.
Words that have
Depth . . .
Feeling . . .
Love . . .
Yet nothing.

What if it never came.
What if the time ticked
And the tears dried
And our hearts stopped
And not a word
not a single word
not a single simple word

The Spirit overwhelms
My silence turns
Into grumblings
Of peaceful apologies
Repentant promises
Careful visions
Helpless Adoration

Romans 8:26

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.

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