Shall I make this prayer public, shall I in secret pray?

Or tell Jesus what already He knows and sees?

Conflicting cares within my heart, I weep.

In waves of writing I swim safely, He stays with me,

He gives me hope, I see His face in tears,

some doubts and pain in me remaining.

On His body this Jesus risen are nail marks for me,

for the brother and the sister who cannot see,

for the neighbor and the refugee.