In the quiet stillness of the first days,
Your lovingkindness, Father, guides my ways.
Your love turns ashen hands to upward praise
Your love that stoops to keep a reed from death.
Out of the darkness, You command "Light, Be!"
And my eyes, now open, see the bloody tree
And the Man who obeyed Your good decree
And from His bloody hands I find my breath.
Your lovingkindness, Father, guides my ways.
Your love turns ashen hands to upward praise
Your love that stoops to keep a reed from death.
Out of the darkness, You command "Light, Be!"
And my eyes, now open, see the bloody tree
And the Man who obeyed Your good decree
And from His bloody hands I find my breath.
As Becher would say... "Lovely!"
ReplyDeleteWhat patience you must have to deal with rhyme! Rhyme is not my friend. :)
This makes me happy. :)
ReplyDelete