You take my boast away,
You who formed me in the womb,
with humility that I did not find
on my own.

Infirmities set me down,
right next to You, Faithful One,
so my complaints are muffled
in Your shoulder.

When arrows aim at me,
You remind me that I’m armored.
I need only recognize Your grace
to sleep again.


About found4sure

I like to write. I think too much!
This entry was posted in Aging, Health, Life and Times, love, Mental Health, People, Poetry, spirituality and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s