January 21, 2008

Romans 8:25

Where is the freedom you speak of
Whispering in the tongues of men and of angels?
Caught somewhere too high for me to touch
Why can’t it reach in and let me go?

Where is the perfection I dream of?
Wisdom must be scattered across it
A fellowship of unbroken clarity
Yet still masquerading as invisible

Where is the opportunity that I was promised
On an ancient day long ago?
Yet your name is written on the land
Sealing the promise with a kiss

Where is the gift I asked for?
Some abstract royal anointing awaits
As I practice the syllables of what I can’t yet speak
Only a drop of oil remains

Touch these broken places with the hidden answers
The continual mystery of who You are escapes me
Break this expectation open and pour out what’s left
Until I have nothing of myself to give
20*1*08

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