I figure it must know more than I,
About the world and my place in it,
About the storms that usher us by.
I’m a symphony with no music,
Live with listeners, no rehearsal.
I’m in combat without vessels.
I’m an athlete testing fluids.
I’m a child to this life. Are you?
My young heart beat is a Gift beyond me.
My soul is led, but my chest and head
Collide like sins and good deeds it seems.
My cheeks may flush and my tears may leak,
My soles may race to catch glimpse of lost sleep,
But the Lord I pray my soul may keep,
Protect my spirit, bold and meek,
Replenish my springs that bathe the weak,
And dry the swamps my demons seek.