| Signs at the street corner |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
I've only these rags on me,
but if you come and clothe
me with your presence
I'll have the garment that I need.
Come, fill me, wash me clean,
hear my utmost cry
stir up my soul for you
fire it up.
I'm so empty inside
I need to sense your
sweet empowering presence
deep within me,
I'm so lost without you.
Your purifying river o'fire
comes down as billows
upon my weary body
that shakes with something
far beyond my understanding;
it softly covers me from head
to toes and
takes my every bit of energy
as I fall under the forceful
blasts of grace
and it's taking out the pain
remorse and shame
releasing a prisoner soul
breaking off the cuffs
and shackles on my feet.
You come with such pow'r
and I lose myself in you
You invite me to
soar like eagles do.
You gave me peace
that surpasses understanding,
You took away regret
and gave to me forgiveness,
You took my emptiness
and poured anointing in my void
that has the shape of YOU.
12 september 2006
© Sabina Rosca
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
Today, there have been 3330 visitors (4770 hits) on this page! |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
