My heart dwells in the rhythms
Of all the ancient days.
The sunsets and the winds that blow
Across the level plains.
My heart is held in rapture
When I hear the eagle cry.
I'm thankful that I've come to know
My Lord, on high ...
Not a 'great spirit', off somewhere,
That rides upon the winds;
Not the 'spirit' of the sun
But, He Who lowly bends ...
To kiss my face and hold me
When the night comes tumbling down
And sees me, always, with a smile;
Never wears a frown.
I cannot see the why He came
When I am only dust.
But, lowly cast in earth's domain,
It seemed to be a must.
Now, while I'm growing in Your truth,
Make even less of me
And fill me, Holy Spirit, with
The heart and soul of Thee!
İİ 2004 by Joan Clifton Costner
Read more articles by Joan Costner or search for articles on the same topic or others.