Solitude


I’ve come running to the stream

That babbling brook where deer pant of thirst

I’ve come running to the stream

This isn’t a game of being last or first

You see, this stream is one of rest

It resides in the foothills of this rocky crest

The mountains may be high, these valleys may be low

But your love for me Oh, Lord is like this river’s flow

I find peace and solitude here on your shore

This soul of mine feels anxiety no more

Off in the distance I hear the storm

Flashing, crashing, gaining in form

But I, a weary traveler have taken shelter here

Amongst the riverside with skies bright and clear

Leave a Confession

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s