A new poem

What word do you have?
Lord my mouth is empty,
so is my heart
I pray, Lord God, for a fresh start.
Help me to love people,
we are the church it's more than a steeple.

I think it's strange that I'm writing poetry again
I don't understand why
these words come from the sky
and I have nothing to reply
but they come and go through
and flow in my pen
from this to go, I know not where or when.

But there is a purpose here, as my words grow more clear

As the Lord clears off the gunk
of this musty gift where it sunk
I find it easier to think, and ponder
what I am saying, what I am living, what I am being.

Lord may your word be a driving wedge
pushing me to live closer to the edge
till I jump and fall to you
leaving every thing behind
can I do it Lord?
will you be there to catch me?
Are your promises really bigger than what we leave behind?

I believe this is true
at least my heart does
I feel it has to be true
But my mind doesn't want to cooperate
it thinks it's in control, it wants to rule
and it grinds my will to polished iron like a mule

But this is no good. Because I fear no confrontation.
No fear. I can charge and dodge
attack and retreat
I am my own man
I do it my way
alone and
by myself.

But this is no good.
This is not what the Lord looks for
or wants, or desires for me.
I desire mercy not sacrifice, says he.

It is better for me to submit and obey
and learn to do things in a much better way
and to try to let the Lord have a much bigger say.

So where did these words suddenly come from, you ask?
The Lord, and I am up to the task.