Surrounded though I am by senseless sound,
with empty speech and shouting all around,
through all of this cacophony, I’ve found
One syllable of all you have to say
can hush the babble, melt it all away
and bathe redeeming stillness on my day.
So why do I forget your loving peace,
allowing din and discord to increase,
when you alone can make this clamor cease?
My heart is torn. Your grace and all my pride
Fight on within my spirit, side by side,
And make this noise from which I long to hide.
I am my own worst enemy. O Lord,
help me to hear your love and be restored.
Kenneth Purscell is a retired pastor, adjunct professor, customer service representative, and retail cashier. He and his wife currently live in the Chicago suburbs. His greatest claim to fame is that he once made Victor Borge laugh.
I think this poem is excellent, in meter, rhyme, and the highly relatable theme. Fine job!
Thank you. I had a lot of fun with the rhyme scheme–and with trying to stuff in as many synonyms for “noise” as I could!