I look to you.
I look to you.
I look to you.
My words rise and fall,
pressured by weights too heavy.
When words fail
I look to you.
Let your word carry what I can't.
Your word pierces soul and spirit,
judging thoughts of the heart.
My words rise and fall.
Let your word carry what I can't.
Your word is alive and active,
turning darkness to light.
Your word is alive and active,
creating things not yet seen.
To turn my hurt to life.
I sit and contemplate.
Could it be, a reason for every hurt,
every mixed conflict,
moment of pain,
sorrow and disillusionment,
is eternal glory?
Eternal glory that outweighs hurt
and transforms to life?
I pause and contemplate.
I try to fix my eyes on what is eternal
but struggle.
Lord,
be a banner over me
and take me to the place you want me.
Like a leaf that falls and dillydallies mid-air,
I too dream to land on gentle waters,
that purify the soul
and unravel a renewed horizon
of hope onto a new day.
Emmanuel Johnson 
