Poetry

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O' sea, O' sea, where is your hold
do you not know, I'm in the potters hands
Though you came, to drown me in sorrows
but my soul will reach dry land

My God has visited me in the darkest hour
to lift me above the sea
My frame is solid, built by the masters steel
for he fashioned it, to make me to be

A towering ship, decked with sails of faith
to offset, the waves and the winds
and he made it to stand, so not to sink in your sand
when you thought that it was my end

He did not bid you to pull me down
to your dark and watery grave
But, he swept me up with his wings of grace
and I knew then I would be saved

For he promised to keep me above and aboard
and I need not weep any more
Though a tear never fell, he knew it was there
and everyone, of them, he bore

Sometimes you can cry and shed not one drop
for it's the soul that's really crying out
Even though it's not seen on the surface
that hidden heart is what it's all about

So who better than God, can see within
the great raging of the sea
which are tests and trials that we have
but while in them, he's carring you and me

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