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Sometimes
roses
look like drops of blood
against the landscape
until they are seen
closer up
Speak to me, O God.
At last...
I'm listening.

Speak to me.
In a quiet whisper.
Speak to me.
In a lion's roar.
Tell me words
that will heal my soul.
Your words heal.
Every wound.

Speak to me, O God.
I'm listening.
Speak my name.
Tenderly.
For I am Your own.

Speak to me.
My very life hangs
on every word You say.
Speak to me.
At last...
I'm listening.
Silence every other voice.
Shout loudly to me
above the noise
of the enemy.

Speak into my stormy soul.
And calm the waves of grief,
and the torrents of fear.
That threaten to shut out
Your voice.

Speak, Lord.
For Your servant is listening.
Speak to me.
I'm listening.
At last...
I'm listening.
Speak to me.
Inspired by the Kari Jobe song "Speak To Me."
Sunlight and raindrops
upon
new green leaves.
Pale pink blossoms.
Wave in the breeze.
Birds sing sweetly
in the trees.
Tulips and daffodils,
so colourful and bright.
Drink in.
The sun's
warm light.
This...
is beauty.
This...
is peace.
This...
is
the moment.
I feel your absence
Be present in me
So I may be present in you
Be near to me
Oh Lord,
I pray,
For I am sore downtrodden
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