To compose a befitting psalm
I have not a powerful pen
Old melodies I sing to you
Those you’ve heard now and then.
Garlands made with quivering fingers
Aren’t as pretty as they should be
Clothed in pristine raiment, I hide
A heart stained with profanity.
Flickering votive offerings , I know,
The murk of sin cannot dispel
Feeble vows of surrender
Aching urges cannot quell.
I still bring to you my beauty
And all my brokenness
Seeking your compassion
When the world seems merciless.
My scars , my doubts and all my flaws
I offer as gifts to you
Sanctify them Master
That I may love and live anew .