There are moments all too often

Wherein my heart burns just to speak

And when only groans are present

Then absent are the words I seek

 

I’d write away my feelings but

Unintelligible they sing

Like echoes from a morning bell

There’s no substance beyond its ring

 

Why haunt me so, you little heart?

I beg to know your beating’s urge

But when I put pen to paper

I have no letters then to purge

 

Only humming residuals

The quaking of a mind; unrest

No witty line or metaphor

But ramblings unstructured at best

 

How like the promises of God

I keep knowing soon they’ll be so

And after long the words come out

As from a fount my soul to flow

 

Oh thank you Spirit, clarity

Can come at last with synchrony

In God’s presence groans are treasured

Here others join in symphony

 

So when my pen refuses ink

I see then blessings to beget

From my murmured desperation

His voice communing “here and yet.”