Ps.22 You always

The candle flame you lit of tender heart has melted me.
The soil of life you ploughed; become a mire drowning me to nought.
The victory cries you gave breath, now only sound in silent tears of memory.
All spoken out to desert of words; from infant babble to death groan in moments.
And do you still not see? Do you still not hear? Will you not know?
Of course …
It was I who let the burn, let the flood, let the sound fade out.
It was I who let the groan erupt, the snare and trap take hold. 
It was I who looked the other way. I who would not hear. I who could not know.
So come … 
Reshape my molten heart,
Plant your seed in me again,
Roar your victory
Give me life.
You always see. You always hear. You always know.

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