Conversations with sorrow (1)

“Out of earth’s sorrows, into Thy balm,
Out of life’s storms and into Thy calm,
Out of distress to jubilant psalm,
Jesus, I come to Thee.”

Sorrow, there is always something you are touching –
some precious thing you have wrapped
your heavy hands around,
too heavy for me
to move you

a finger I may loosen
and with effort
free some joy to dance with me
only for you to grip and bind again

Sorrow, you would stay heavy on me
if you could
you are selfish
and make me selfish…

Jesus I come to thee.

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