How Did He Know? (2002)

1 Comments

How Did He Know? (2002)

My days now seem shorter
And nights ever longer
But the sun shines each morning
And within I grow stronger

I'm no longer dreaming
As I sleep each night
And just barely resting
'Til morning light

Yet each new dawn comes
And with it a breeze
The warmth of the sunlight
Puts my spirit at ease

Today before rising
I whisper a prayer
And before I am finished
I sense that God's there

To the words of my heart,
He's listening and reading
Awakening my spirit,
He hears my heart's pleading.

Soft tears well up
In the corners of my eyes
As I pour my hurts out
And then I realize...
He's heard me.

 

Then He answers me back
And peace fills the room
He replaces with sunlight
All the dreariness and gloom

And I find myself wondering
Just how did He know?
The secret pains of my heart
I never let them show

Sometimes, people can't console you
Not family, nor friends
Only the comfort of the Father
Restores real joy again

He feels our pain and burdens
That seem to tear us apart
He understands our sadness
It grieves His own heart

He hears the cry within
And He answers when we call
He's open to our confessions
Our faults - He forgives them all

I do not know just how He knows
The things I never speak
Or why He takes on all my cares
And ensteels me when I'm weak

But today, I start anew
Because I said a prayer
He's given me a second chance
He's shown me that He cares

And if and when tomorrow comes
I'll face it like today
Knowing the Lord is with me
And only a prayer away

And life will keep going on
The birds will continue to sing
The sun'll still be shining
And Jesus will still be King

So, each day before rising
I'll whisper my prayer
And before I am finished
I know He'll be there.


"He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart." Psalm 91:4

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ccslim commented on How Did He Know? (2002)

12-21-2009

wOOt! I felt the heartbeat! Excellent direction by content and drawn into like a painting! Perchance a bit wordy in places is all I feel! wOOt!

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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