Lend your ear to the whistling wind, his words, a storied tale,
How he saw the Beloved One, on the cross, the flesh did nail.
Precious flowed that crimson blood, drained, the spirit pale,
Yet, bought for us, our souls’ reprieve! Whose grace shall never fail.
Find Me in the golden light, as the world, to darkness, sleep,
Among the twinkling stars of night, as dreams, draw ever deep.
Up upon the crescent moon, or as far, the cosmos sweep,
Yet ever close to you, my love, beneath your blanket, peep.
What indeed is paradise, except to be with you,
To have your tender kisses, hugs, so warm and true.
Lying in your gentle arms, the sky, its brilliant hue,
Watch the slowly setting sun, the writ of love renew.
Be free from all the shackles, the cares that hold you down,
And look towards the morning bright, ease that worried frown.
For gently, He will lift you, away, this cursed ground,
And claim you as His very own, what’s lost but now am found.
At last, the message has been sent, now whitter shall it go,
Adrift in the endless ocean, buoyed by its restless flow.
Whereupon, this tiny isle, its shore, in the moonlight, glow,
The Word shall find a welcomed home, and Hope, a place to grow.
‘Twas on your gentle rolling slopes, lined with verdant green,
That I, this child, alone and lost, sweet paradise, did glean.
Calling me, and drawing close, the promise of joys unseen,
Yet even now, the scent of earth, from life, its bitter, wean.
O Marvel in His glory, the workings of His hand,
For who could ever fathom, His thoughts, His deeds, His plan.
As ever through the ages, the sky, the sea and land,
Come, number all His wonders! The countless stars and sand.