Touch me, Lord!
For listening, as you want,
know clearly hear what you say.
And if sometimes, Lord, I turn my head,
beam, again, with the vane of faith,
marques me the meaning of my life.
Forgive me, Lord!
When I listen to you and pretend I did not.
When I hear, and I think that's not for me.
When I hear, and I become deaf.
Touch me, Lord!
Because, if I have only the hand of the world,
I feel like I lost the best part of you.
I turn away from the true path.
I hear what only a few interested.
Touch me, Lord!
And wake me from my spiritual slumber,
so, returning again to thee,
can understand that without you,
everything is empty, anxiety and suffering.
Touch me again, Lord!
Because, sometimes, I'm too touched
by the hands of a capricious world,
of a corrupt society,
an environment that will not let me hear,
what gives me peace and joy without limits.
Can I touch them, Lord?
Ábreme my ears, you listen.
My hands, to give me.
My eyes, to see.
My feet to walk.
My conscience, so you'll never forget.
Amen.
P. Javier Leoz
