There has been a dearth of poetry here in the last three months.
How can I hear your voice, my God, my king?
The only voice I hear is mine alone.
I speak, I cry, I plead for anything
And hear no more than wind, than wisps windblown.
How can I do your will, my Lord, my God,
When I hear nothing from your righteous mouth?
How can I hear your voice? I have no prod
To lead me on, but my desires uncouth.
Where are you, Lord? Where are you, God? I cry!
I need your voice! I need your Spirit now!
What can I do? Without you, I will die,
While struggles, suffering, furrow all my brow.
My God, you save; you say you speak to man,
But why can I not hear your voice? Who can?
(Yes, I do need prayer. A lot. Funny how I write more poetry when I'm feeling like this.)
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