The Intruder

O God, 'tis true on me You do intrude,
Your Spirit dispersed to me immersed in work
or when I brood in moody solitude,
with rude riposte You drive almost berserk
this soul in me so passionately pursued
until Your sigh no longer I can shirk.

As I dispatch my quiet natural day,
out of the blue You rendezvous with me;
O silent, O celestial stowaway,
You lurk apart until my heart is free,
which I in rout unlock without delay
so You can bless my day and destiny.

The softer world has oft imperiled my thought,
inspite of grace, temptation's face unfolds,
then in midflight by dazzling light I'm caught
with what Your passionate yet so rational way holds,
thus driving that sly viper's lie to naught,
as o're my mind Your blinding kindness rolls.

Beatitude, solicitude are You,
Whose kiss assists me in vicissitude
that threatens to pursue some new taboo
and win to sin again my interlude;
on body, soul, mind, heart--my whole askew--
merci beaucoup You truly do intrude.

                        -- by Pete Voelz        2003