By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Saw my life indisputably clinging to a past night.
Saw my hopes fall downward, as my heart lay broken.
Ripped asunder like petals of a buttercup, strewn.
Vanished with the wind.
Saw my dreams undeniably showing in the moonlight.
Saw my mind rebounding and life’s paths ricochet.
Turned, I, somewhere to a place that in God I knew not.
Lost in the landscape.
Saw my soul distinctly crying, dying without insight.
Saw my lone self-sinking in a crest’s avalanche.
Plunging quickly as a geyser whose power lost might.
Steaming with duty.
Saw my Father understandingly reach down from above.
Felt the strength of loving as He held out His hand.
Leaped I safely to the bosom of His arms that day.
Praying, by faith, home.