Running down the isle of hope,
I fall beneath the murky waters of doubt.
Trying to hold onto the steady branches of faith,
I slip into the warmth of you.
Holding onto the tendrils of grace,
bewildered by the sprite of your face.
Your life, your all, I feel your everything;
your wings beneath my feet lifting me high,
above the skies, above the tides.
And on the day, in time and space
when salvation shall come,
I shall behold your love.


By Emmanuel Johnson, Adetiloye, Maybelle.