by Sheila O'Neil - Farrow
Without His presence, what are we,
But cast upon the tempestuous sea?
Without that inner flame of light-
Left wandering, through the darkest night.
It's in that night, that He comes nigh
When stars shine and winds give sigh.
Then in the stillness, He makes whole
The shattered pieces of my soul.
Prostrate, hands upward, held in prayer,
Come, Lord to me, dispel despair.
He's here, this moment, poised in time.
The thick night air, now wine, sublime.
Then soft through the light curtain, breaks
The daylight, all the darkness wakes.
Life's busy clamours onward flow.
But day or night, He's here I know.
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