faith, poetry, rhyme, saint augustine, Uncategorized

Confessions (a poem based on the writings of Saint Augustine)

At the altar of a holy God,
the knees of man do quake
in silent supplication
for a nation at its wake.
At the altar of a holy God,
the heart repents of pride
professing of the blessing
by the Spirit that’s its guide.
At the altar of a holy God,
man sees ambitions twist,
releasing what was leasing
the perdition of his list.
At the altar of a holy God,
man empties all he is,
to take the cup
that ushers up,
to drink of what is His.
So bellows this poor fellow
with a sorrow in his song,
acquired from ancient Adam,
in a garden going wrong.
I hope I shall return to thee,
and taste a greater fruit-
a pear tree unpolluted,
by what’s suited for its root.
-Amy Struthers
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