Through Every Ford
Through Every Ford
I beg to die and then I cry.
Tell me God. Why? Oh, why?
I kneel to pray beneath sun's ray.
Hope will not stay my heart this day.
Life is dry; minds will not ply.
Will you, please tell me why?
Aches and pains here and there-
In my heart and everywhere.
Now, my stomach begins its hurts.
Growling out-loud ailment blurts.
Leopard spotted gnawed at first.
Too soon the ulcers ate and cursed.
If I go, I will miss them so.
Friends and family lost. Oh, no!
If I stay, I will miss them so.
Friends and family have gone. Oh, no!
But if I say, “Lord, have your way.”
I shall not worry another day.
For God is there to pull one out.
He does it gently with no shout.
He holds each heart within His hand.
And so He does in every land.
So lift your eyes unto the Lord.
And hold on tight through every ford.
© By Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
11-23-09
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2009
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