Simon Miller Poems

From the innocent infant,
To the ages of elders,
We are never enough alone.
...

What is man, that thou art mindful of him?
and the son of man, that thou visitest him?
For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels,
and hast crowned him with glory and honour.
...

A sword in hand
A foe before me
The din of battle
The taste of blood
...

I stand here
With nothing
Stripped of all
My humanity,
...

Oh, my angel, if life was half as sweet
As the time I spend by your lovely side!
Life’s challenges I would willingly meet,
Made easier when you with me abide.
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Where is your victory?
Where is your sting?
My Savior has come
You have no power
...

The Fire grows hotter
And the Pain rises
To an unbearable level
But the pain is nothing
...

I will praise you, Adonai
I will worship my Creator
I thank you for your grace
I thank you for your Son
...