Servant of the Lord

In whispered tones of dawn's embrace, A servant wakes, the Lord to grace. With open heart and hands unbound, In service pure, their life is found. No gilded throne, nor crown of gold, For in the Lord, their heart is held. In humble strength, they find their might, And in their duty, take their flight. The morning breeze, it whispers soft, Through rustling leaves, His love aloft. The gentle rain upon the land, Each drop a blessing, by His hand. With every breath, they draw His grace, In every step, they seek His face. To comfort those who weep and mourn, To tend the lambs, the sick, the worn. They spread His word with tender care, A beacon in the shadow's lair. Through darkest night, they gently lead, With lanterns bright, they heed the plea. Their hands, His tools, with care they craft, To build His kingdom, ever last. Their voice, His song, in joy they sing, In every deed, they lift their wing. No earthly wealth could ever claim The heart that honors His good name. In love and mercy, they proclaim, To serve the Lord, their soul's own flame. A servant true, with spirit bright, They walk in faith; they live in light. No fleeting fame could ever sway The one whose life is love's own way. In every task, in every hour, They bloom in life's relentless bower. A servant of the Lord, they stand, With humble heart and open hand.