Thursday, August 16, 2012

Hallowed be Your Name


First I must be hollowed:
From the twisted maze of wanting,
From my grasp of rags of comfort,
Ointment for the ego
And a pillow for my head.

Backwards, untwisting,
The subtle machinations,
The coil of self-deception,
The scaffolds masking fear,
(My intellectual lumber).

Let Your clean wind blow through my bones,
Piping desolation
Through the thin marsh, breathing
How all living comes undone.

And I bow my head.
The ground must be cleared
Before the cornerstone is set.

Let me rise, exulting,
Not in my own cleverness, but the foolishness of God.
Laughing as the winged birds laugh
High on the driving wind.

Your praise in every stone.

1 comment:

Kansas Bob said...

"Not in my own cleverness, but the foolishness of God."

Well said Lynne.