my fifty-first song

Humility hates a secret, I read. Pondered over leaves, kept company in the darkness of night, tears falling.

For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is always before me.

My adultery is not against husband. My fear hasn’t shed man’s blood; my shame hasn’t buried a child.

Surely I was sinful at birth,
sinful from the time my mother conceived me.

My heart betrays Truth. My wicked tongue tires of being trapped silent, springs forth, spewing venom. My covetous eyes search, seek, pine, Pin for what others have. My pride puffs up, covers my sin, covers my secrets. My dirt looks a little cleaner, from the outside.

Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.

Humility hates a secret. Draw near and search me, know me. Clean me.

Create in me a pure heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from your presence
or take your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation
and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

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