Monday, December 14, 2015
A PLAINT & A PROMISE
Lord, why may I never find
One single soul to whom my mind
I may lay bare, and know it must be
Perceived with perfect clarity?
Do you not speak to me, child dear,
And have you said aught I did not hear?
Leave other minds, and turn to me;
I never fail to hear or see.
I know, Lord, that from nothing I was made,
And to nothing shall my body come
When in the earth I’m laid;
Yet my soul to thee shall home.
All I have is by thee given;
If thou shouldst ask it of me again,
All shall from me be riven,
Thou shalt not ask in vain.
For, Lord, I do bethink me well
Of thy sacrifice which saved me from hell.
If I must today be plunged in sorrow,
My soul shall rise to thee tomorrow.
©2015 by Ruth Heredia