Login | Support
Images Activity Sheets Books Poetry

Blessed Hour of Prayer

by Kingsley Ayistar

That hour when I fall on my face,
And pour out my heart in prayer;
I perceive in that lonely place,
God's pouring presence and power.

There's no moment like the minute
When on the Spirit's wings I fly;
And from my somberness exit,
Hallowing the Father on high.

Son and Spirit have my worship;
Blood and body tremble at praise.
At the peak of longing, I weep;
Enveloped by compassion's haze

Oh! What favor it is to me,
Fresh grace and mercy to obtain!
Calling on the throne so boldly,
Telling the Master of my pain!

Then I feel His hands on me, ease
Burn my burden which comes lighter,
My heart's plight is exchange for peace--
Betok'ning an answered prayer...

Psalm 5: 3 My voice You shall hear in the morning, O Lord; in the morning I will direct it to You, and I will look up.

This poem was a finalist in the November 2013 poetry contest

social media buttons share on facebook share on linked in share on twitter share on google plus

Click Here to contact Kingsley Ayistar to request permission to use this poem.