"Fields of Time"
When my feeble eyes endeavor
To look upon the fields of time
Then my heart breaks out in praise and
Grateful lips break out in rhyme
Clearly now, in every meadow
Which hold the phases of my life
You stand making sense of chaos
Soothing grief, dispelling strife
Far away my eyes envision
The future harvest of my toil
There you stand among the thistles
Clearing ground, preparing soil
Need I fear the fields before me
For Lord, you have prepared the land
So I'll plow my way to glory
Thankful for the task at hand
Joyful, I await the harvest
The fruit of which belongs to you
You, the breeze, the rain, the sunshine
You bring growth to all I do
Seeking no reward or wages
Content with labor, Lord I am
Give me just a humble corner
At the Marriage Supper of the Lamb.
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Norma, very nice rythym here, very concise yet descriptive, and very poignant. I love it! Roger