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.
