Great Expectations

The Channel

The wind where it listeth here does blow,
‘Tis such a haunting sense;
From whence it comes? Where does it go?
And who has sent it hence?
As in the Spirit here I walk
‘Tis such a feel as this;
I live and move and think and talk
By a breath that I could miss.

If careless I should come to be, 
My attention left to drift, 
Then how to move I could not see, 
My course again would shift, 
For the gentle breath that moves my bark 
Along this altered course 
Would resistance cause to miss its mark, 
My movement change its source.

For in the stream where I would stay 
The currents are laid out 
To move my bark along the way 
Where One has marked the route; 
Into the wind my sails I set 
And hold them steady there, 
For I must learn not to forget 
That He for me does care.

When it seems some storm would turn me o’er, 
And I the helm must grasp, 
If I would ever reach the shore 
And in His glory bask; 
‘Tis then that careful I must be 
To never lay my hand 
On the pilot wheel if I would see 
The green hills of the land.

And if some other ship I meet 
As I sail on my way 
And there its occupants should greet 
On my course I must stay; 
Tho’ tales of horror they can tell 
Of what lies in my path; 
I am at peace-know all is well, 
Regard not the wrath

Of which they speak-have seen they say 
Around the lurking curve; 
In truth they have not passed that way, 
Their bark was made to swerve 
Past horrors grim and frightful things 
As they their will would do; 
They know not of the heart that sings 
Resting here in You.

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