1000. A thousand times my pen has shaped its song,

SONNET 1000
By JH Sayyar
A thousand times my pen has shaped its song,
With verse and rhyme I traced grief and grace,
Through tempests fierce, days: dull and long,
Thy light, O Lord, hath ever been my place.
Each line a prayer, each stanza but a sigh,
A whispered hope, a truth I dared to name,
Yet not by craft alone did words fly high—
Thy breath inspired the flicker and the flame.
What strength has I to build so vast a tower?
What pen could dare such echoes to command?
It was Thou, who poured Thy mercy every hour,
And held this weary scribe with guiding hand

So now I do kneel, with grateful, trembling pen:
Thou wrote through me: a thousand times. Amen.