Thursday, December 20, 2007

Prayer for the Morning

Lord, you are all that I have.
I build my house on sand,
but what is it that holds up the shores?

The coasts crumble into the ocean;
they are swallowed up by the sea.

The sun dries up the sea;
the creatures of the deep are no more.

The sun fades like a dying bulb;
the land and the sky cease to be.

Land and sky envelope me;
like a fog, shadows consume me.

I look for you in the darkness.
I know you are the Last Thing left.
I stop looking for you--
you have wrapped yourself around me.

20 Dec. 2007

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