My hands do long to bless the lost with hope,
My pen does long to soar long the pages,
I stand, I run and stumble down the slope,
Will my work be unreached through the ages?
Are my efforts feasting last on Maundy?
My work be shattered on the Corner Stone,
Eli, Eli lama sabacthani?
Oh Father, raise my light that once had shone.
God of mercy, bless this shadowed spirit;
My God of grace, descend and make me whole.
I am humbled, grant to me Your merit;
Creative work does much to joy my soul.
My spirit is broken beyond my pen,
Oh Lord, when will this purgatory end?
Originally written sometime in March 2009 as a prayer sonnet. I was obviously struggling with feelings of inadequacy regarding my writing and any lack of progress thereof. Funny enough, this prayer has indeed been answered line for line (although not in any way I would have wanted or imagined at the time).