Help me, O Lord, delight in all Your ways;
Teach me, O King, to keep your perfect Law.
For only once did sin hang from a limb
Such tempting fruit, fair begging to be plucked
So plucked it was – devoured by the lips
Against that first decree from Heaven giv’n.
And now the sin resides within the limbs
Growing from each heart’s deep, black, fertile soil
Needing no tree, no garden can contain:
It’s grasping, festering rot consumes the world.
Consumes! It writhes! Yet when the rock exclaims –
Such thought brings joy to heart and hope to mind –
The rock cries out, not pain, but worships still
The very One who formed it from the void.
To call my heart a stone insults Your world,
Your Word giv’n form: O, give such form to me!
Would that I obeyed simply as the wood
As perfect in my state as soaring oak.
Yet at such thought, another trembles mind
The image of Your son upon that tree –
A hope in blood that lifts pure sinner’s prayers
From hearts, renewed, as Eden soon will be.
Teach me, O King, to keep your perfect Law;
Help me, O Lord, delight in all Your ways.
-Charles Baldon, March 2013