Christ My King

October 22, 2010 § 3 Comments

An Hour in Eucharistic Adoration

I offer my heart as if it were incense

Rising slowly toward the sky

In a solemn state of grace

To the God I cannot deny.

The wood under my knees is cold and hard

And my hands are clasped in prayer

And my head is bowed down low.

I am not worthy to be there.

My soul is crying out for aid

My mortal flesh is trembling

What can I do but cast myself

At the feet of Christ my King?

Each minute goes by in silent reverie

The rosary between my fingers

Is first my plea and then a light

Whose glow around me lingers.

There is truth here for the seeking

And great comfort for the good

I find solace for my suffering

upon those simple planks of wood.

My soul is crying out for aid

My mortal flesh is trembling

What can I do but cast myself

At the feet of Christ my King?

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