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No Comments Poetry

Out of Your hands blessings pour forth,

Yet the plan for them I do not know.

The reason Your grace so freely flows,

Is beyond my mind to fathom out.

Yet why do You give and take away?

Why am I lifted high and then brought so low?

To the depths where the murky waters of despair lie thick,

Grasping out for me at every turn I endeavour to make.

Yet it is to You O’ Lord I turn, for You are my strength,

It is to You my eyes look and my hands are raised.

It is to You that my voice cries out in unending pleas,

For it is You alone who are my strength and shield.

The one who will never forsake me,

Hear my cry and plea, whether I am high or low,

Never let me leave from Your loving embrace.

SOTL 29/01/09

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