Welcome to my little experimental blog for sharing my poetry. :)
I decided to share this one first since I borrowed a line from it for the title of this blog. Note: the C.S. Lewis quote comes from the chapter titled "Heaven" in his book The Problem of Pain.
The Shape of My Soul
"It is the secret signature of each soul, the incommunicable and unappeasable want...Your soul has a curious shape because it is a hollow made to fit a particular swelling in the infinite contours of the Divine substance."--C.S. Lewis
Mostly it's this dust I hate,
this clinging earthly clay:
sin that clutches closely still
and lingers and permeates.
Sin, I know, shall die at last
and clay be flung aside
when all of us are formed anew
and raised to glorious life;
but I wonder if this restlessness
I feel is something else:
is it the dust that's out of place,
or somehow, just--my self?
The songs that I hear in the silence--
the ones I can never quite sing--
even if I could play them
would anyone hear them but me?
There's loneliness in the longing,
and sadness when I see:
this beauty I brush in the darkness
is reaching out only to me.
This nameless hope I carry
as far and wide I roam
is destined for a resting place
in the Lover of my soul.
Eyes of faith strain hard to see:
not only shall I live,
but be alive, and fully known
in the endless joy He gives.
Once, I was carefully woven
and fearfully, wonderfully made;
and if He has lovingly counted
my tears, and all of my days,
then surely the things that run deeper--
the words I can never quite speak--
can be heard somewhere in heaven
in the place He's preparing for me.
I know I will sit at His table,
I know I shall look on His face;
I'm sure I will stand in His presence
continually singing His praise;
and I hope I'll drink from this Fountain,
and I hope His heart I shall know,
and rest as His lovingkindness
fills a hollow the shape of my soul.
12/2015
