The lightness of His touch, the healing by His hand,
The wounded takes to wing, as warmth revives the land.
Soaring, oh so free, my fainting senses mend,
Then one at peace with Him.
And all that love demands.
Streams of golden sunlight, sleep now yields to morn,
Old, its dreams forgotten, wake! A brand new song.
Rafting through the silence, softly, rays adorn,
Day, His Word renewing, hope by grace reborn.
On silent wings, my burdens bear,
Among the clouds, sweet angel fair.
With gentle eyes, her breath, fresh air,
Come lift me up! Whence, whither, where.
Come, ascend the holy mountain, His word to us did speak,
Forceful as the mighty wind, yet mild as the breeze, so meek.
Telling of such wondrous deeds, see His glory from this peak,
Retreat then to this silent place, His presence daily seek.
“The LORD summoned Moses to the top of the mountain, and Moses went up.”
~ Exodus 19:20
A walk into the country side, where fields and flowers grow,
Air, so ever wholesome, feel the earth between our toes.
Rolling back to distant times, when life moved oh so slow,
Where simple virtues were extolled, and hearts, a quiet glow.
Well, I’ll be off to Neverland, young, eternal, free,
There its open meadows, for a run, inviting me.
The wind, so cheerful, dancing, my friends, those handsome trees,
Underneath the brilliant sky, a child, now home with Thee.
“It’s wonderful to be young!”
~ Ecclesiastes 11:9
To see what you’ve seen, hear what you’ve heard,
To walk down your path, imbibe deep your Word,
To touch of your healing, such glories unheard,
To be where you are!
As free as a bird.
“Come, and you will see.”
~ John 1:39
Tender was her touch, as soft as angel’s hair,
Rousing to a flame, what spark, the chill did spare.
Whispering kindly words, revive the fallen fair,
In her bosom lay, sweet refuge from despair.
His eyes, a kindly gesture, soft words that flowed with grace,
Kindling of a fire, for surely my heart did race.
Sweet captive to His spirit, all lost to time and space,
Just one desire burning, to hold, to kiss His face.
Soft her teardrops falling, his departure in the morn,
A child no longer needing, her hand to guide along.
For now the Word is urgent, come seek what all men long,
Her son to God returning, by grace, her womb, was born.
“I prayed for this child, and the LORD granted my request. Now I, in turn, give him to the LORD.”
~ 1 Samuel 1:27-28