My Cry

My Cry

I cry in my desert solitude,

stripped naked by need;

I humble myself

before God,

before others.

I pray;

I pray.

In my desert

a small voice,

uplifting,

humbling,

calling me,

answering my cry,

my cry of need,

my cry for help.

I turn my head,

listening,

watching,

expecting,

what?

But an image

appearing before me,

also naked by need,

the need for love;

it asks me to have love,

and asks me to have mercy.

I pray for its presence

to stay with me,

to nurture me.

I hear a whisper,

a tiny, soft, soft whisper.

I am always with you.

I am always with you.

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