Wednesday, November 13, 2013


Gentle swings the breeze-swayed trees,
yet something lurks beyond the breeze.
Upon strong winds God's angels ride;
somewhere out there, there're souls that hide
behind a tear and desperate prayer,
and blow, ye wind, to carry them there,
those angels whom God's granted to
deliver solace overdue.
Soon the wind will calm; I know,
God's angels have been on the go...
and somewhere there's a soul at rest
from burden of some life's cruel test.
Returns the breeze; feel its caress,
another sign my God will bless.
Know man will ne'er control God's wind,
to tell it blow or make it end;
God is in control, my friend.

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