Sinner, Convert, Poet, Contemplative
A la notte oscura
Per Cristo Gesu
Lost words, lost time, debris of verse,
Failing the minutes You give me,
Futile the feelings which might
Have lifted to You my soul,
Shaking, I stretch towards You
And away, the cup of emptiness,
From which my lips would turn,
Full draughts I must drain,
Soaked with winter rain, my cloak
Falls to the mud and lies fallen,
Here the watchmen find me
And beat me, strip away garments,
Leave me naked, freezing under
Wind and night till I cannot move,
Cannot forefend wind’s empty gusts,
My spirit is silenced before its sin,
How, Lord, may I, having none,
Heave heart to You, or hearken?
Or hear the whisper of Your Name
Beneath this mindless roar of storm?
How will I endure until the dawn?
December 21, 2005
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