Sometimes I Talk

I couldn't write this poem;
I couldn't speak to G-d.
I couldn't bear to bare my soul,
And show the path I've trod.

So nothing that I write,
Will brush the light of day.
And because I'll admit to no-one else,
It's to myself that I must pray:

Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing.
That's ok, because I do.
Sometimes I feel my slf is c rumbling.
I'm still in love with you.

Sometimes I think I never change
Eternal is your grace
Sometimes I wish I'd stayed the same
I'm with you, keeping pace

Sometimes I'm filled to dazzling
Your soul is full of fire
Sometimes I must become much more
Harness your desire

Sometimes I know I get it wrong
Sometimes you get it right
Sometimes I long to slip away
Yet still I hold on tight.

Sometimes I hide myself in shame
I'm by you even then
Sometimes I fall from lauded heights
We'll climb back up again

Sometimes I hear a still, small, voice
Sometimes I hear a plaintive cry
And call it by my name
And ache to end its pain
But though it speaks within my voice
But in the gifting of my choice
I know they're not the same.
Our choices are the same.