Sunday, January 8, 2012

Miserere


Oh God,

these pathless thoughts

and fruitless dreams encompass me;

be Thou the hope I cannot see.


Oh God,

my twisting lips

and hateful tongue destroy;

somehow, be Thou the word of joy.


Oh God,

my graceless steps

have murdered and entangled all my ways;

be Thou to Thine own Self the voice of praise.


My God, my God,

my soul stripped bare,

I lie unveiled to Thee.

My hope, my joy, my praise,

my prayer: be merciful to me.


7 comments:

  1. I concur. I feel that this should be my prayer daily...

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  2. Please promise me you'll publish a book soon. I would like to be able to hold these words in my hands

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    Replies
    1. I'd love to know what name holds me in such high regard.

      Poetry journals first; then books.

      -Dan

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    2. Well with that reasoning you could put off publishing forever.
      You may choose any name you wish. It's of little consequence since I found your blog through a friend and we haven't been formally introduced. I have enjoyed it enormously and hope you continue in your painting of words

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    3. Thank you very, very much. This blog won't survive for much longer, and publishing is likely the next step for me, so thanks for your encouragement. It's daunting even to one as poorly acquainted with the greats of old as I, but I will try, and I will think of your nameless name and others like it while I do.

      -Dan

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  3. I realize you were already predicting the end of the blog but I had hoped it wouldn't be this soon. It seems as though yours is a mind that never stops so I don't imagine that there is a lull in your creativity. I hope to see you (if only through your words) soon.

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