I hear your voice in your poem, how dry I am,
sitting there, all alone.
Friends have let you down, they treat you like a clown.
As said, the rose without water withers and dies,
who responds to its cries?
So many withering on the vine, can someone give me
something for my broken heart, maybe a glass of wine?
As I sit by the babbling brook, its waters softly flowing, I think to myself, there must be more to life than what I am knowing.
Please God show me the way, not in this state I wish
to stay, send some hope my way.
I lift my eyes unto the hills, there stands the cross but what does that mean for me?
Jesus softly says, you need my help, I will
rescue thee.
Lean on me, your soul I will keep, I will lead you to the still waters that run deep.
Rivers of living waters from within you will flow,
then, the joy of the Lord you will know.
"He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, 'From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water.'" John 7:38 NASB.
I dedicate this poem to; "Silent Girl".
Author Ken; content from a draft on my site; www.gracefaithgift.com
