A Prayer

Set a fire in me, Lord

one kindled by Your grace

burn away all flesh and sin

and draw me to Your face

Bring me near the cross, O Lord

to crucify my pride

that my boastful soul may see

it’s I who pierced His side

Guide me by Your Spirit, Lord

to make me like Your Son

that His name be glorified

and I with You be one

 Surely our griefs He Himself bore,

And our sorrows He carried;

Yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken,

Smitten of God, and afflicted.

But He was pierced through for our transgressions,

He was crushed for our iniquities;

The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him,

And by His scourging we are healed.

-Isaiah 53:4-5

Early poetry

God the Provider

It is not I, but You O Lord

Who is the supreme Judge of all

Condemning sinners

Damning the wicked

To proclaim Your holy justice

It is not I, but You O Lord

Who made the perfect sacrifice

Lived a blameless life

Humble to the grave

To show the purest love of all

It is not I, but You O Lord

Who places me on Your holy hill

Providing refuge

Giving peace of mind

To never waver or despair

It is not I, but You O Lord

Who provides me with a passion

A zealous pursuit

An abounding thirst

To envision Your perfection

It is not I, but You O Lord

Who is the eternal Being

Forever worshiped

Submersed in glory

To forever be praised, Amen.

*  *  *

Flesh

Flesh—this wretched, filthy, stinking thing

Often brushed off as inevitable

Yet an honest man knows

That the fruit that it shows

Is cultivated by his own desire

Fruit—associated with good

But the fruit of flesh

Is as the neglected apple

Under its source

Rotten, decaying, of no good use

Apple—Eve chose you, yes?

More desirable than God?

A trustworthy statement it seems

Marked by the serpent’s nod

The lie of lies she believed

Lie—anything and everything which is not

The leaves covering a pit

An abyss of hellish torture

Freeing you to be captive

To all that Him who is good is not

By Timothy Berezhnoy