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