The floorbeds do creek,
Beneath my feet.
My breath does hitch,
When my sins I meet.
And the dusk does flood
The streaks of light.
The pain does drown
My shaking might.
And yet I still my nerves,
Close these eyes,
And yet I gather my bones,
And cease the cries.
‘Cause I seek the breeze
Amidst the storm.
I seek my smile
In the cries I form.
And Your Sun leaps out!
My clouds wash down.
You blink at me, tears lost,
Run over by Your brilliant crown!
So I walk up and over,
A little better than then,
You were smiling at me:
Ah! What a might You’d woven!
Poetry.inc 