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By Peter O
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Mildewed memories,

Sunk in the dark dank of my soul's soil,

Scorned me , crying,

"You have sinned." You have sinned."

I ansered: "Yes." "Yes." "Yes.

I was a serf in sin's service,

Owned by

Pride and lust,.

Anger and prejudice.

But, You Father,,Walked softly through my soul,

Each Footprint left forgiveness--

The still of lLove..

Then, You gifted me

With the clear sight of  Your Word and

You asked ony that I warm in th sun of humility,

Not see it as scrubwater.

Father, thank You, for Your pour of plenty-

Converting  the spell of my old wine into the Cana of my new wine.

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Submitted: Sunday, February 26, 2012

Last Updated: Sunday, February 26, 2012

About the Poet
I am 79 years of age. For the past nine years I have been retired, after forty years, from the field of alcoholism and drug abuse in New York City. I am married and we have two grown sons and two grand-sons. My life changed through a grace-experience in 1967. Writing Christian prayers is a particular interest of mine. This came about by a growing awareness of the spiritual in recovery from addictions. I choose, intellectually and emotionally, to believe the Triune God of the Sared Scriptures as my Healer.

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