to Sandy on our 38th
imprisoned in a crippled body
(persuaded muscles matter most)
envying the berserker his might,
had I only one wish of the Almighty,
it would be for one day more with you
struggling in a sinner’s soul
(more self unforgiving than forgiven)
longing to be holy for real,
had I only one prayer of the Holy One,
it would be to be more holy like you
living in a rebel’s heart
(more often hidden or imagined than real)
wandering outside the camp,
could I change one thing about myself,
it would be to be a friend more often like you
but heart, soul, and body are my own
(gifts from God I seldom comprehend),
my life is what it is, come what may,
and all it is, because of you, is better,
and all it is is yours.
Tags: love poem