Sitting here before a mirror I to you draw ever nearer. For in the looking glass I see The man who you want me to be The man who loves your words of gold His life in you so ever bold. You love the lips that speak the truth And feet that follow you from youth. You love the hands that feed the poor And house the needy evermore. But oft’ the face I see look back Reveals the love that heart doth lack— A soul that only loves the Word And sounds of tinkling brass it’s heard. A soul that stays inside its room And lives within a verbal tomb. Its words have buried love so deep That oft’ your laws it doesn’t keep. It speaks of love to other men But lives within a selfish den. Lord, break the glass, or break the soul That lives in such a lonely hole. Oh, free this man from chains that bind And keeps him living in his mind With mental chains that bind his wrists And tighten grip of his clenched fists. Let the mirror show to this man That loving others is your plan. Your words through glass it should reveal How every soul your love will heal.
This poem is taken from my book A New Song, (Westbow Press, 2016) and can be found online HERE.
