On The Last Day Of The Year

Jesus come and find me

On the last day of the year

Ragged, worn, tattered, torn

Older now, and full of fear.

 

Still the racing of my thoughts

Ease the terrors of my heart

That have hunted, haunted me

To the ending from the start.

 

Come and count my hairs again

Count the bones beneath my skin

And knit me back together

Where the seams are opening.

 

Jesus come and find me

And make your dwelling here

In the empty place carved out

By the passage of the year.


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