What are you saying, dear Lord?
You Who speak with Your poor creature.
Give voice to Your desire.
Place Your lips to my ear.
How do You speak?
Will I hear a voice?
See a vision?
Feel Your stirrings in my soul?
Will there be thunder as on Sinai
Or the breeze of Carmel?
Can I see in my blindness?
Hear, despite ears that have inclined to foreign gods?
Barnacles of perversion weigh on me.
Encrustations of sin hamper my ascent.
Give me feathers,
And wings of desire,
That I might rise, weightless and free,
Drawn by Your Love for me,
As music on the Wind of Your Spirit.
©2011 Joann Nelander
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