Wrestle With Me

Wrestle with me, the small voice weighs
(as does your brother when he prays).
There’s much so wrong, but also right.
I can council if you invite;
shepherd your tenet when it strays.

Don’t live in atavistic daze;
closed minds the playground where He preys.
Surrender not—put up a fight!
Wrestle with me.

You love your pleasured, languid ways:
that sort of life, it soon decays.
As you retire to bed tonight,
dreaming of your next day’s delight;
think long before your lust obeys.
And wrestle with me.