In My Abba's Hand
In my Abba's Hand
I awoke from my dream, standing in a meadow,
I was caught by the light of the golden moon.
I awoke from my dream, standing in His shadow
All I felt was love, there was no doom.
In the distance I could see my Abba's hand
It was opened up and waiting for me,
It was at a distance because of my size
Compared to him, I was really tiny.
He whispered in soft, sweet tones,
My child, come and visit with Me.
His voice was so peaceful, it felt like home
It was the only place I wanted to be.
I took a small leap as I ran to His hand,
I took a small leap, on my feet I did land.
I landed on the outside of His mighty Hand.
I wondered where to go, what was His plan?
His Hand was so soft and so peaceful, so free
My only question was how could it be?
He was so Mighty and I was so small,
He was so good and me not at all?
As I traced the lines of His Might hand,
The lines each fold, what was His plan?
He whispered go on, find the place my child,
So I walked on until the center, then rested awhile.
Right here is where My children should be,
They need to rest and trust in me.
I sat knees up under my golden frock,
I sat for awhile no one here would me, mock.
I started to sleep, I started to slumber,
The beat of His heart, in His hand felt like thunder.
I slumbered and slept all through the night,
In the morn, I understood why in His hand I did rock.
I heard Him whisper once more, for me to see,
Be still and know that I am God, child trust me
I realise now, no matter the size,
We are all tiny miracles in our Abba's eyes
No matter how noble, women or man
We all need to be held in our Abba's hands.
Copyright © Chantelle Smith | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment