he doesn't need
the curve of
just any hip
to hold
while he sleeps.
he needs
my
hips to hold
shoulder to kiss
perfume to breathe.
i know because
its my form
that fits so
intricately
against his.

And so, broken, bleeding and on my knees
I learned what it meant to surrender
To let go of every part of my control
To worship in awe of His splendor
To lay down every expectation
To take up my trust and my faith
Broken I learned surrender
On my knees heart abandoned I pray

I lift up my gaze to the sky.
Where does my help come from...
when I cry?
My help comes from my Lord and my God.
Who will not allow slumber to make His head nod.
He is my Protector.
My Knight in shining armour.
On my weakest side,
where I am most vulnerable.
The sun by day will not burn me,
and the moon will not strike me down.
The Lord will keep me safe
from all evil and harm,
as He watches over my life
and keeps me in the storm.
He will watch over me when I
walk out the door,
and when I come back home.
I lift up my gaze to the sky,
where does my help come from?
From the Lord, the Great and Mighty,
Creator of Heaven and Earth.
He is the reason I can walk free from fear.
For He is my Helper.
Who is ever near.

Some men seek flesh which does not belong to them.
Others, gold, or colored paper worn extraordinarily thin.
Still others covet gadgets and toys that tinker.
Some merely are after the liberty to be a free-thinker.
While I see the value of gold and liberty,
One will grow old, while the other is found in tranquility.
So then, as I sojourn, my eyes are set on the Trinity.
And because of the pity of Divinity,
I am already a citizen of that unseen city.