Lamb

  
I’m in the presence of the Lamb,    
That walks the sleep of dreams that burn      
Within the chink of what I am,      
That finds me bowed at every turn.      
      
And who am I, what should I think,      
In every nook of darkest night.      
Absolve my wounds upon the brink,      
I call on Him, I shake with fright      
      
In every nook of darkest day,      
But conflagration’s finger tap      
Is of His want to light the way,      
By lightning strike & thunder clap.      
      
A whispered bush from God and yet,      
I hold my tongue and thus I wait.      
What is this miracle beset,      
A plague, a knowledge, of my fate?      
      
What of my faith? Maybe I’m odd,    
But here I’m with the Lamb of God.