Each Friday I post a poem from my archives, until I run out.
Ah, Lord! How dim the faces round me seem!
Have you withdrawn your glory from my sight,
Or are my spirit’s eyes now failing me?
And why, at midnight, do I lie awake
With heavy heart and eyes that will not close?
Were I but lovesick, all would be explained,
Yet in each face I can but scarcely see
A few faint muted glory-echoes, dim
Where once I stood transfixed under the sight
Of brightness beaming from each face and form,
And greater still, like sun to candlelight,
Was she, my heart’s beloved in that time,
For whom I often in unselfish prayer
Would bend my knee and spread my hands to you.
How easily your word came to my thoughts
And prayer and praise and thanks came to my lips!
Oh, that you would within me kindle fresh
That flame of faith-fueled passion that there burned;
That you’d again return me to your way
And make me walk in it. O Lord, relent!
Bend down your ear to hear me once again,
In kindness and compassion smile on me,
And let your Spirit cleanse and dwell in me.
Unlike most poems I post to this blog, this one is quite recent; I wrote it last week. And that—a large archive but vanishingly few recent poems—is part of the problem this poem is about. I’m not sure this poem is quite finished yet; it feels like it wants a section promising what I’ll do if my request is granted, like in the psalms from which this drew inspiration, theme, and language.
As always I welcome your comments, critique, suggestions, or any other feedback on this poem or any other part of my work.
Crossposted to my wiki.