Curling inward like the fern
but brown and bent and dead.
Bent within and ever in
to live for self in sin
We turn in-to that we might seek
a way away from outward stares
or help that’s sought, to give and see
a rescue path away from me
For air is hard, and breath is thin
I dream “sufficient” deep within
and pull away reflexive, raw,
from living life outside my law.
So spread Your light oh Spirit, wide,
and dawn upon my stubborn mind.
Uncurl the rebel coils of death
And wake my heart to pain…and breath.