Am I intentional?
What’s my direction,
But tracing circles
With no intersection.
Is it where I ‘m looking?
Will I find it at all?
Will I ever run the race
Beyond this crawl?
What redeems the time
From routine’s rocky crags?
Where is my battle cry,
My crusader’s flag?
I plan to speak,
But instead grow nervous
To lift my voice
Is to leave Your service.
Everyday victories accumulate
Like so much scattered debris.
I hope. I wait for You to make
Some tangible use of me.
My restraint suffocates:
A foundational intrusion.
Just speak; Your voice
Clarifies confusion.
viewingcamelot 
Say Something