I have heard You
Across the years,
And I walk
So closely with You now.
We are symbiotic
In my dreams,
My imperfections,
Mine,
Certainly no failure
Of my desires,
For it is you,
My Lord,
Who adds texture
To my time,
And a perfect example
Of the man I long to be.

It is true
That you are found
In humble hearts,
The poor,
The lost homeless,
The eyes of the dying,
As I have seen you there.
So powerful were those moments,
Left breathless, was I,
When I felt Your glory,
And imagined the depth
Of Your goodness,
All
In the eyes of a dying man.
He told me that he loved me,
This new friend
Who I lovingly served at the end,
But it was You,
I know,
For I beheld You in his gaze,
And the image is with me still.

Dear Lord, we have lost our course,
And worship our material world
At our own peril.
The guidance that you gave us
Offers contentment,
So fleeting in these perilous days,
But we are blind,
And deaf,
Turning away
From what would lend us peace,
So sad am I
In these days of chaos,
That I long for Your return.

I sat in a forest
By the sea,
Air thick with a heavy mist.
The moss on the trees
Muffled all sound,
Save for the incoming tide.
A proud elk stood high
Upon a precipice,
Neither threatening,
Or afraid,
The silhouette,
Set against sea and sky,
Was that of
Magnificent creation:
Your hand,
Your gift,
There for all to see.
I give praise
To Your brilliant design,
And obvious patience
With this generation so filled with pride,
And I beg Your mercy
In the end,
When again
I gaze into Your eyes.