Lord, You Have Got My Country In Your Hand
I
Lord, you have got my country in your hand,
have broken my whole world that’s around me,
stripped it, the precipice is everywhere
and have also taken my whole career.
Like the apostle Paul I stand in your light,
are blinded, try to get some direction,
but am smitten down upon this old earth
with a kind of pain that cuts right through me
still sight is being revealed to me
and where I pray, fall humble at your feet
you know everything, keep protecting me
as the great ruler of the universe.
Sometimes it feels like a life sentence,
but now I really know the true meaning.
II
But now I really know the true meaning
of being your child, your adopted son,
in the night around me, I know no fear
when everything suddenly is worthless
and destiny firmly, definitely
takes my property, wife and her children,
with my life broken as if it cannot heal
my country rejects me as if I am missing
but I had to come to a turn around,
while I still see your bright light shining,
that life sometimes brings a kind of poverty
had to become my own dim reality,
I had to wander in the black darkness,
I had to learn to only hold your hand.
III
I had to learn to only hold your hand,
how long do I have to beg for mercy,
do I have to trust you only blindly,
when real demons reach with their hands to me?
As a human stand against this rebellion,
when my own world is declining with me,
it feels as if darkness folds all over me,
not if Michael is conquering at all.
The onslaught shows that I am straight on target,
that my poems make the enemy vulnerable,
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poem by Gert Strydom
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