70 Times 7
Unto what shall I liken my struggled walk in life
Unto a breath without air
Gasping and grasping
For that which I can clearly see
And ever try to be
But like unto the shining stars
Of heaven’s glory above
Lies as it would seem
High above my reach
Yet my hands are stretched heavenward
Unto what shall I compare the hope which I have for change
To the light of sun above the storm
Breaking through betimes
With the brilliance of gleam
And a glimpse of the dream
But even as the delicate flower
Of the desert plain
It withers and returns to the ground
Hidden once again from view
Yet my faith awaits the rains of spring
And what likeness portrays my will to go on
The waves of the wind driven sea
Ever striving to come ashore
Yet each time falling back
For gravity they lack
But like the shimmering beauty
Of the freshly fallen snow
Though it turns to grey and melts away
Yet is destined to come again
So also am I resolved to return in the season
And never surrender
Until seventy times seven
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