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Oh Wisdom, where art thou?
Where is your promised rest?
Upon You, and upon Your word I meditate,
I read, mark, learn and inwardly digest,
And my questions are answered by silence,
As though they are but dust and wind.

I take Your light into the world,
And bare witness to it,
Yet they question me, and call on me,
They demand that I call on You to light the Pyre,
But I have nothing, and mine enemies surround me,
My cloak will not part the waters for my escape.

And yet it is to your heart I run,
Into that which only it knows,
Where I can lay my questions at Your feet,
Unanswered, unrequired,
While I rest in that deeper Wisdom,
The trust of a child that Your lamp will guide my feet.

You will once again call me out,
To bare the burdens of deep questions,
But I will not seek Wisdom alone, and my burden will be light,
For You will carry it and me, as You have done before,
And this time perhaps I will sit at Your feet and learn,
With Wisdom as my companion.

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