Bellows burst open the careful seaming of my soul,
as I lift up my being to the Lord.
Wearing this offering best with abandon; if I
arrived clothed, soon I won’t be anymore.
Love rises from these faults and failures, like
the trembling chords of freedom’s first cry.
Your embrace unfolds all my secrets,
taking death to renew this child’s life.
Out loud, You shine through exalting’s stance;
in palms’ submitting, face’s illuminating,
eyes’ pouring out of your proof, while feet
dance in the rivers of Glory’s wading.
My tongue swells with praise, and these days
fade with moments of profound Presence.
With the salted wet pores which seep my wear, I
wipe away this playground’s dust from my senses,
leaving room for your restoration only.
Cleanse my spirit with angels’ harmony:
the blistering fire; the smoldering flame; the
gentle flicker… all the same, engulfing me.
The sound of your grace cannot be named;
the depth of your mercy to no phrasing belongs.
All I can offer in the surrender of my all –
the float of my voice upon the heart of my song.

For Dungeon Prompt: Take Me To Church