Presence

Like the undulation of the sea
His holy presence comes to me
Like breakers on a rising tide
His spirit finds me where I hide
Confronts my soul, then pulls away
Desires that I let go today.

And I’m the shore, the lifeless sand,
Scorched within a sun-scorched land
I harden at His sure approach
Am devastated by His touch
Fight desperately to keep my form
Like Autumn trees amidst a storm.

That Chaos, bubbling and free,
That coolness, life, and clarity
That dares to interrupt my steps
That Gesture from eternal depths.

And when His gentle waves subside
Leave smooth the contours of my heart
And traces of His peace abide
In places once lay strewn apart,
Where dry and wounded tracks had been
I long for Him to come again.

© 1993 Don Collins

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