Sight

libbey-stemless-wine-glass

May my eyes, Lord, Never
stay set on what surrounds
but solely, wholly, Ever
on Thee be fixed and bound

Lest they stray the Giver –
in times my cup be sweet –
to the gift that Never
can be as sweet as Thee

Or in self-pity settle –
when my cup be bitter –
on my heart, there struggle
to dethrone its Ruler.

Touch my eyes, Lord, and lift
them daily Heavenward,
their sight also a gift
to see Thee more and more.

Lift them off the pages
of my earthly life
should I lose sight of Jesus
Who my hid story writes.

The poem was published in a University of Pennsylvania literary arts magazine while I was a student. Sight and Blue Champagne could not be more dissimilar in meter and form. Champagne is fluid.  This one is highly structured and draws in on itself.