A life of turbulence
For those who want to fly high,
A life of pain for those who
Want praise in the end—
I shall not speak yet for
What I have accomplished,
For what will be of me is
Not yet proclaimed, or even
Named
I am the ingrate at the gate,
By Your pool, living like a fool—
If only someone could push me
In—if only the dark could fade
Away and tell a new story about
Me—the shadow has always been
The always around me—
The dark has never been light,
Or has never felt right,
I am to embrace all You have put
In front of me, to pick up the stones
The world would throw at me,
To heap up for You a life that
Is worthy, when the itching ears
Set in, when perilous does begin—
I am by the pool like a fool,
If only the depressed could push
Themselves in,
If only sad as not man’s
Madness,
In constant trial, in
Constant exile,
I am your chastised
Chaldean, your one and
Only weeping friend—
The pain You have created
Leads me back to You,
By the door I know You
Are, with me I know You
Are—I crave the crashing,
The rehashing, the turbulent
Living—for only can He who
Shakes shake away what will
Not remain—by the pool I still
Wait, craving just a stir, just a
Breeze, just a touch, just
More of You and all You have
Made me to be