My heart is inclined to you, O Lord
  Yet not all
So often I see myself withholding
   some thought, some desire
      some bit of the old
   declaring with shaking fist
         this is mine,
         don't touch.

A so-called friend offends me
  I'm enraged
I want revenge, tit for tat.
   Don't tell me to forgive,
      it's unforgivable...
   so my heart inclines to hatred
         this is mine
         don't touch.

There's much to do, and
  I'm tired of doing
I want to play
    to go where I want to go
       and do what I want to do
    so my heart inclines to selfishness
         this is mine
         don't touch.

And so the list goes on
  I spiral down
lost to myself in whirling self-pity
    deeper into loneliness,
       so my heart inclines to
    hopelessness and despair
  O God, I am yours, You are mine
         touch me.

 

Written as a result of reflecting on 1 Kings 8:54-61


Copyright © 2005 Fran Woods

Back to Poetry Index

Home

This page was last updated 05/04/07