When heart is cold and insight rare
And I feel fully center stage
I stop and catch the vacant stare
That steers my course –
I am afraid
Too far I’ve wandered
Too much with Me
So little time of warm repast
The silent stillness throttles me
It is for Life I grasp
Can I direct my heart to warm?
Can I myself step back
And bow to Him who’s fully earned
What I was only playing at?
No, it is His hand must come
And touch the place where I once burned
It is His love that calls
And I must surely turn
Read more articles by Barbara Jean Gravlee or search for articles on the same topic or others.