Wrest
“Oh it’s true I’d do anything to have you back,
So long as I can return with my pride in tact”
Oh the look upon Your face as an answer You return
“You’ve still got a lot of lessons left to learn,
Because without humility, you will never yearn;
Don’t you see, my son, that’s what you must learn,
Until I AM all you have, all else, yes, everything, must burn.
We’ll gather all the ashes, and place them in an urn,
Along with all your dead ideals like ‘love is something earned.’
You can write your name on an ivory plaque,
Your own epitaph: No Turning Back.”
“But, but, but…” I say—and you reply “away
With your excuses; they’re none of my concern.
My child, I watched you go astray,
But you are mine, and I shall have you return.”
I say “if you want me God, you’re in for a fight;
If you want me take me; wrestle me tonight.
“Do what You must do,” I said, in a final undefiant act.
I need to know if you are real and more than just abstract
You touched Jacob’s hip, and I feel you take me back.
Postscript:
It’s better to be broken and Yours than wholly my own
A grace I’ve never known before; to the world it must be shown.
(c)2011, jsm
