I’m knocking on the door
Like you’ve told me to do
The salt and sand are rising up
I’ll drown or I’ll break through

I’m knocking on the door
Like I’ve done again and again
I’ve grown quite good at knocking
Are you there to let me in

I’m knocking on the door
With concentrated dreams
I don’t believe you’d lie to me
As fists splits at the seams

I’m knocking on the door
The sound repeating brutal
I ask for more, it’s rising up
The need for space is futile

I’m knocking on the door
Each strike in avid praise
There’s beauty in the knocking
And the desire of your ways

I’m knocking on the door
I know you hear each one
If this isn’t the door for me
Command me to be done

And lead to me to a new door

And I will knock

Categories: Faith, PoetryTags: beauty, Christian, christianity, Faith, God, hope, Jesus, Poetry, praise, prayer