O Lord let the words that cut paths through
my heart and my mind, come into Your view.
How lost I was to host such a queue,
I pray to awaken my all for review.
Lord, place in me, the will of devout;
A longing to “see”, to remind and account…
Sweep on throughout as a wind would caress,
Its own field of Love’s bounty; it’s garden to bless.
© 2016 Linda Willows