Turn my mourning into morning
I am in mourning
for the world I thought I knew,
had such hopes for,
dreamed such dreams for…
My world, my oyster,
Not mine any longer.
By hate, by hurt, by harm.
Love doesn’t insist on its own way.
Waits patiently for an invitation.
An opening in the doorway
A crack, a crevice, a peep hole.
See this? all this is nothing.
What lasts are These.
Just as you loved them,
I love you.
Lord, turn my mourning into morning.
Bring the dawning of your new day.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. ~ Matthew 5:4
Posted on October 18, 2017, in Christian, God, poetry and tagged mourning, prayer. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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