I believe I found Cup of Despair
hidden hung on Life’s abundant tree –
or it found me – hiding in low bough shadows
cringing – naked alone on the Human knee.
There’s a life out there in the mirey clay;
left wandering listless long of late, riding
a big black storm on a cloudless day.
Universal music weaves in and out the air;
my instrument of Life pants breathless, soon
a struggling note blown out of tune.
My Sky Room is vast and mysterious;
on Celestial shelf near the stars and moon
float space junk: my unknown accomplishments.
I mourn the work left in Life undone;
my portion measures the least of them,
good intentions never count for much.
Now the tongue likes to claim my best – tho
my works – a life lived in superficiality and jest.
I’ve – colored my life Rusted Tin – in watery lies
little white sins some thoughtless whim – I’ve
smothered my candle from within.
God’s precious gift grows worn – O lowly worm
now – lost in lost loves lost dreams I squirm I scream;
nothing will cover my unworthy past or sins.
Some place away somewhere now at bay
lay lost souls like me alone afraid
fearful of base waste soiled Bed We Made.
Thinking, take this cup from me!
born torn cloth never made whole;
thy lowly limb severed from Life’s tree,
my impoverished love my mother sin,
my heart adrift unforgiven upon your sea.
Let this be what defines your hidden me;
a dam holding back a river tear
falling from an ocean eye.