Some would satisfy
their utmost longings,
Always reaching for what lies beyond.
I know well the soul has no belongings,
Neither short-term lease nor long-term bond.
Though I long for You, I know You're with me.
Peace comes through delivery from desire.
All Your love for all burns right through me.
There is nothing left that I require.
Rich in faith, I can be poor in fashion,
Intending but to be Your instrument.
Called to this green land, I preach Your passion.
Kings come to me through You, their crowned heads
bent.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
