To Wait
For years and four days,
I await a knock, a stark reply,
The unknown a wretched price to pay,
And it burns me alive.
They say fire is but cleansing, if so my soul is burnished bright,
Yet it does not warm the morning, nor brighten black night.
But mourning the past, what has been and could be, brings a heart only sorrow, and threatens ill deed.
So I'll turn red rimmed eyes, from smoke and weary tears, to the God who is wise, to whom prayers never fall on deaf ears.
For the years I have waited, a lifetime of trial,
He never wavered, my heart never reviled.
For His goodness and mercy, are neither bound nor abated,
Through the waiting and fire,
I see it is in Him, I've truly waited.
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