Borrowed Breath

My soul sings out
When my tongue is tied,
Whispers and shouts
Lie buried inside.
When I don’t know
What I should say,
The Spirit bestows
Prayers I can’t pray.
My soul sings out
When my tongue is tied,
Whispers and shouts
Lie buried inside.

Often I kneel in silence,
Amidst the warfare’s violence;
My soul is pained and weary,
My eyes, bloodshot and bleary,
And I yearn for your cheering presence.

But when I try to call for aid,
My words seem to hit a blockade,
And as they get caught in my throat,
My prayer sounds like a sour note
And hopes of recovery fade.

Yet your Spirit is interceding,
Faithfully and earnestly pleading
Praying prayers I cannot utter,
Translating my stifled stutter,
Into the very words I’m needing.

My soul sings out
When my tongue is tied,
Whispers and shouts
Lie buried inside.
When I don’t know
What I should say,
The Spirit bestows
Prayers I can’t pray.
My soul sings out
When my tongue is tied,
Whispers and shouts
Lie buried inside.