Beholding

The day draws near to me now,

The long-sought day of beginnings.

The day of adventure,

Or so they say, I say.

I am weak. I fear. Fading...

Are You there too, as here

In my heart, in Yours?

I have none. Strength...

Will any remember my song?

When I have fled, gone.

A hero of the faith? No.

But maybe You will know me.

Perhaps

You shall hear of One who risks

everything

to follow

And you will come down.

A weak but valient

daughter.

Crazy but never numb

to love.

Will hunger move

You?

My song is dead.

I come to find

awe.

beauty.

in You.

To behold

at last

what was passed over.

B.R. 11/13