Wants

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We want but are not satisfied in gain,
And so we gain new wants to add to old.
This futile journey is an old refrain
Of wants too weak to trust the Story told.
“Our hearts are restless till they rest in thee,”
The saint once wrote, and still his words resound.
They ring from Africa across the sea,
True both on foreign and familiar ground.
For we were wrought to reckon with our ends,
To know the purpose t’ward which passion points:
Temp’ral desires call for that which transcends;
What leads to life divides marrow and joints.
O LORD, align our wanting with your will,
And turn our hearts to you and so fulfill.


Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

The quoted line above refers to a line from Augustine’s Confessions.

Posture of Worship

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Palms outstretched in offering,
Bowing low, I meet my king.
In humility, I sing.

In the market, in the square,
Souls surround me. You are there.
Though I move, you hear my prayer.

In the darkness cold and still,
As I sit against my will,
I look up and you fulfill.

Through the music and the word,
Worship serves to undergird.
I receive and I am heard.

May my posture ever be
Tempered by eternity
As I learn to walk with thee.


Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

Thanks to Maci for suggesting the title and topic of this poem.