By: Yevgeniya Przhebelskaya

In death’s chokehold of despair
and ranging fire of desire,
in smashing murmur of the world,
“Look for the Savior” I’m told.

Who heard Nathaniel’s secret prayer,
And called him out of despair?
Who saw Zacchaeus on a tree,
And called him out to be free?

This night is quiet but not quite,
it cycles fast from dark to light.
Under a Sycamore Tree,
I pray to Him to find me