Sunday, April 22, 2012
It drags its feet. The tune is weak.
The words all come out wrong.
Because it isn't mine,
It falls and limps along.
God gave you knowledge, gifts...
Gave you mercy, love...
Finally you sang and played…
Your songs were full of sorrow, grief,
Loneliness and desperation.
Nothing that could heal or comfort,
Death in place of consecration.
He gave you one more gift,
the best That He can give to man.
You grabbed a hammer, let it fall...
And crushed your hands
So here I sit, and sing this song.
I pray, I wait, I grieve
And I will try to play your song
Until you're ready.
Even though I wait for all my years.