The Precipice

Under a weeping willow tree, No one around to comfort Me. I, on the precipice of utter defeat; You, with compassion, came to see. Wretched, on the cold Death Valley floor. Those glory heights I could not soar. Nothing with love had I to give; Yet You were there holding me still. With strong and gentle hands of Grace; Inspired by You, I did make haste. The world I could now truly face; Lifting my hands and heart from a daze. Because You made me brave By Your embrace, I was amazed. My doubts and fears doomed me to fail, But You enabled me to be strong and sail.