Lord, take my hand and walk with me
along the wooded trail
and show me once again, Oh Lord,
your heart in great detail.

For Father, I’ve forgotten just who this is I see
that glares into my mirror
and longs to be set free.

Oh won’t you please crack open
this heart that once belonged
to a little girl who sang of love
and danced to her won song?

Just help me to look deep inside
for all the buried treasures
that you put there before the earth
for your glory and your pleasure.

Do mine own eyes deceive me,
or could that be her there
in the sway of towering pine trees
that stir the evening air?

And could that be her breath I feel
that strokes my furrowed brow?
Or is it laughter touching me?
I recognize it now!

Do I hear a sense of purpose
in the purr of feathered flight
that carries her to feed on grace
before the fall of night?

Is that her scent of fertile soil
from dried and deadened leaves
that seek to yield new blessings
to the flowers and the trees?

Oh, I can see her clearly now
in the playful romp of squirrels,
and the way they pause and ponder
like little boys and girls!

But look here at this Mockingbird
who croons her neighbor’s song,
because she has forgotten
to whom her voice belongs.

She toils in desperation
for favor from the forest
Oh, turn her eyes to Zion, Lord!
Let your voice be her chorus!

And there’s a busy chipmunk
who’s filled with foolish pride
who leaves her home unguarded,
inviting snakes inside.

Oh spare her, won’t you, Father?
And seal those open places
that leave her prey to gnashing fangs
disguised as smiling faces.

Now, yonder in the distance
lies a puddle still and calm
from rains of bitter teardrops
and blood and sweat of Psalms.

I hover in amazement
at the crystal clear reflection:
A Savior’s face in place of mine
who whispers…”Resurrection”.