O Lord, I know you save the one Who comes to you on bended knee Who from his wickedness will run And rests in purity with thee. And, Lord, I know you punish those The wicked men who harm the poor. You punish evil men who rose By trampling good men evermore. But what about this wicked man Who pens these words to you each day? Will me you reach with holy plan And cleanse my life of wicked ways? I want to say my tongue is pure And that my feet walk righteous paths, But evil heart I can’t obscure You see my inner clouds of wrath. You know in me there is no good And that my soul is painted dark, But, Lord, you know that if I could I’d want to be scarred by your mark. The mark that always calls me out From wicked men that me surround, The mark that never leaves a doubt That I was lost but now am found. The mark that finds me in your arms, Your arms that keep me from the traps Laid down by those who seek my harm, Not knowing that your arms will wrap— They wrap me close to you in time. They clear the path I walk upon. They show to all that I am thine For now and in eternal dawn.
This poem is taken from my book A New Song, (Westbow Press, 2016) and can be found online HERE.
