The Broken

I did not set out to write a poem about hearts for Valentine’s Day; I’d actually forgotten Valentine’s was today when I started this poem on Friday. I just happened to finish it today and realize it was all about hearts. So here you go: An adaptation of Psalm 51‘s “Create in me a clean heart”:

Not as I see do you see, God:
My depths are bright to you.
Look into me and see my heart;
reach out and make it new.

Not turned from dregs of dust and mud
nor chiselled from the stone,
but shape in me new flesh and blood,
each pulse from you alone.

Give back the joy I had at first,
when hearing of your name
would fill my hunger, still my thirst,
and kindle me to flame.

In mercy let me speak of you,
unworthy as I am:
The words my wounded soul renew—
oh, make me whole again!

If not, then let this be my gift:
a heart and spirit bowed.
Though I have nothing better left,
this off'ring I lay down.

And you who see into my depths,
you will not spurn them, Lord,
for you who live in broken bread
the broken will not scorn.