The River |
There is a river flowing softly through the forest green; shadow upon shadow yield their myriad shades of blue. I make new passage o'er this stream, as many times before, and marvel at the presence of a living God at work. His hands still shape the clay along the water's edge. The tallest trees filter the light, and grow luxurious ferns, which bathe the woods in fine perfume. All is still. I feel His presence in this place, and call his name aloud. He must hear me as the songbird sings' the richness of creation. His song is filled with the glory of the past, and reminisce, a song of times when leaves were greener, and the sky more blue. Yet he sings a song of promise, of a tomorrow yet to be, and the hope of a more glorious world to come. "Oh, how I long to see you, face to face, my Lord", I say, and witness your creation then firsthand." "I hear as all creation speaks your glory and your power I hear you softly call my name." "If I could only row this boat unto that other shore, Would you hold me in your hand forevermore?" Steve Hodgin Copyright 1982 |
