Take away my certainty.
Peel away
The swaddling clothes
Of my convictions
And let me learn to walk.
The blindfold of beliefs, too,
Through which a hint of light
May wash my eyes,
Without letting me see:
Relieve me of it.
Only let my eyes see
And my skin feel,
My feet move toward you
As my eyes turn toward
All you have bestowed:
What you have given me
Is more than enough --
Need I imagine more?
These, too, I beg you
To take:
The need to be right
The desire to see change
Without helping make it
The fear of failure --
And the abject terror
Of your blinding love.
--Mr. Gobley
3 comments:
You know how sometimes when you go to church, the sermon seems to be written for you and the words that are spoken are just the words you needed to hear that day? The lessons are your lessons, the prayers are your prayers, the struggles are your struggles and the pleas are your pleas.
Sometimes, Mr. Gobley, your posts are that way too.
i thank you, alison, and i crave your indulgence on those days when my posts are so clearly **not** "that way."
Well you can't aim an arrow at every reader's heart every day (especially when your blog is for your own heart too). Heck, I'd be impressed with a convergence of ideas once a month, really, but your arrows are hitting their mark more often than that for me - and for others too, I'm sure.
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