| Catholic Planet |
|a worldwide online Catholic magazine|
|[ main page | contact info | submit an article | search ]|
The carpetís clean where the rug used to be,|
and the clock is ticking away.
You gave an eagle wings to fly,
but there he sits where he was never meant to stay.
Can it be that this heart that has swelled to burst
is really a barren plain?
i cry out in the crowd down here,
like a beggar blind and lame.
Oh, Jesus, son of David canít you hear me?
Oh, Master, let me go with you!
i hear your footfalls near me,
but canít take hold of you!
i must hold on to you.
i know what youíre made of,
and i know you feel my pain
i know what youíve done for me,
sweet Jesus, let me do the same.
The wind is movin where the moon stays still,
and iím way down tired and scared.
ĎCause what happens if the prodigal keeps running away?
Love goes unlovedóis that what love should bear?
Can it be my beingís deceiving me?
Can these tears fall in vain?
i cry out in this tree up here,
when You answer donít let me walk away!
When You answer let me give it all away!
Oh, Jesus, Son of David, canít You hear me?
Oh, Master, let me go with You!
i see You on the water,
let me come and be like You!
Let me keep my eye on You.
i know what Youíre made of,
and i know You know my pain.
i know You cried, hung and died for me,
help me do the same,
sweet Jesus, donít let it be in vain!
This poem is © copyright by mark macdonald