The Covenant

In Your gospels You speak of hope
Of surrender and supplication.
But my only sacrifice as of late
is of Your sustenance, that I dismiss as fate.
My soul deflates and my heart it waits
For a sign, for your subtle whisper
To sooth my sorrowed soul with it's sweet song.
For your able hands to lift me high above the ruins
of my shattered, scrambled self
Open my eyes, My sufficient, reverent Savior.
I'm straining my ears, holding back tears
listening for that calm, tranquil voice, giving me the choice
To start fighting, or resume falling
Into the darkness and out of Your arms.
In Your gospels You speak of hope.

Mahala Sarah Woodford