Sonnet: In Strife, My Soul for God Truly Athirsts

When intense strife afills my heart with woes,
And problems of all sorts dullens my mind,
And supervenes insomnia by foes,
In God and prayer, solace I still find.

When things don’t happen timely when I want,
Immersed in grief, my heart seems wounded much,
With solutions eluding, think I can’t,
I plead and long for Maker’s magic touch.

When all seems lost in life on earth to me,
And not a person offers words of love,
In solitude, I suffer verily,
My only comfort is my God above.

In strife, my soul for God truly athirsts;
When sin-forgiven, jubilantly bursts.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-25-2006

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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