Cleaving unto the dung, I writhe.
A worm by nature, a worm by name;
Who am I to have seen thy light?
The stench of my offence piles above
Up and up and higher to the sky.
Repaying corruption to Thy love;
Why wouldest Thou look down to me?
In mud of ignorance, yet with pride
I cannot meet Thy gracious gaze.
Born wallowing in depravity;
I died before that filthy birth.
Thy boundless grace and mercy reached down
Through the vile excrement of me,
Granting me righteousness as a crown,
Giving me wings upon which to fly.
What solid hope has filled my frailty?
What great strength is in my new bones?
What beauty clothes my heart within me?
The glory of Thy light of life.
My eyes can see, and my ears can hear
My mind begins to understand
The sweetest sound of Thy voice so clear,
And the words by which I live.
- Sam W.
1 comment:
That's a beautiful poem Sam, thanks!
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