by Paul Burdett
I am nothing, I am dust.
Lord lift me up from this wounded weak self.
For all is darkness, all is death.
Forever hounded by misery and temptation.
Strengthen me in Your love, assist by Your grace.
Cleanse me of my sins by Your living waters.
Quench my thirst for holiness, at the fountain of salvation.
I am nothing, I am dust.
I wander in a prison of my own making, left to my self, alone.
I flee nightmare wraiths, the offspring of my sins.
Who can free me from this prison?
Release me in to the light of day, where all is new.
A pierced hand, draped in blood shall be the only One that can clasp
mine and pull me forth from this prison of self and sin.
Lift me from the depths of my self-sought misery of sin and deathliness.
The only One able to remake me in the image of God, cleanse me and wrap
me in the garment of a son.
The prison house of self and sin and the freedom of a son of God.
How far apart they are and yet how close.
My weakened self-will the key to the one and the blood of Christ the key
to the other.
I call upon the Merciful One to free me, for I cannot, for I am nothing,
I am dust.
A convert to the Faith from Lutheranism, Paul Burdett has been writing poetry for 12 years. He draws inspiration from the psalms as well as the Liturgy of the Hours. Paul is director of development for Catholic Exchange and lives outside of Philadelphia with his wife, Cindy and their two children. You can reach Paul by email at pburdett@catholicexchange.com.