I do not contest against my ignorance,
Nor do I argue against my inadequacy.
I do not deny that I desire to be a saint,
Nor do I not realise the fear I harbour
Of falling short – far too short.
I’ve held my peace, as something broke to pieces
Gazed into the golden rays of silence from dawn till dusk
Through breath-taking sunrises and awe-inspiring sunsets
In blistering deserts and life devouring swamps
‘For how long?’ I ask my ever present muse.
‘It’s for but a breath’, comes the response.
It is an amazing Grace that makes up for my shortcomings,
A Breath that blew away my inadequacy, gently and surely.
I contest not against my ignorance – it’s fuel for my seeking.
I hear a whisper which says, I’ll have my desire and more,
If I learn to focus beyond this fleeting little breath.
I’ve found my voice, as something broke to pieces
Watched it gush and flow with such force, and much restraint
Pushing and boring, meandering sometimes, but always on course
Undiminished in blistering deserts, nor polluted in poisonous swamps
Really, what separates possibilities from impossibilities in this breath?
“Hear my prayer, LORD, and give ear to my cry. Don’t be silent at my tears.”
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