How do you spend your waking hours? Do they dangle-drip by, forgetting their price, are they seized with holy fear, does history change from whence they were spent, or as breath do they just disappear?
Friday, June 10, 2011
Poem of Purpose
Purpose is what my heart does seek
A reason, a goal, a call,
To dance right up to what I must do
And never glance back or fall.
For passion was planted so deep long ago
Before my spirit was born
To fulfill a dream, and finish the race
My vision to rise on this morn.
So Lord, help the fog of this world fall away
To reveal Your ultimate will
May it shine bright, and clear, and new
And bring forth fresh focus and zeal.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment