Composed on a Misty Evening in February
I cannot see what lies before me,
I cannot see what lies behind.
The lampposts to me are as celestial orbs,
Rising out of the darkness
To guide me through my troubled time.
I see as a blind man sees
The Danger which lurks ahead,
But is as surely there as the
Timid mouse knows the eagle is above him,
Ever-present and unyielding.
And I again turn to faith in these dark hours,
With a knowledge, not hope,
That my Maker is with me.
He is as near as Danger;
Ever-present and unyielding.
Through this consideration
I begin to see my trivial fear as
A mere part of something much greater;
A battle of wills, a war of light,
And my Danger has power no more.
It matters not, my fear and unease,
These are but gusts of wind
To what is the Tempest.
I must be steadfast as is my Father,
For He alone can guide me back home.
