The winter mists wrapped deep and still
Around my weary heart
I sought a path out of the chill,
But knew not where to start.
And then I saw before me there
A path, lit dim, but true,
That led beyond my fear and care,
And there, Lord, I found you.
For, like the filtered morning sun,
Your light burns through the haze
And I will follow you, my Lord,
Through all my misty days.
No comments:
Post a Comment