In first it creeps Not with a jolt, But pin-like fingers Of assault, It scurries round Rather than linger, Awakens feelings Of pleasure; But danger. I opened up the door a crack It seemed harmless looking back. Should I close it For a passing prickle? Or to withstand And not

He had hemmed me in Behind and before, Drew the lines that fall But I thought to soar Past sunsets that looked Like bars might prove more. Pastures green, like plain Bread, stale and dry Rolled on for days; Streams Meandered nearby- My eyes gazed elsewhere, I refused to lie.

Now it seems His hand has turned Against you, Yes, has seen you sinking And has pressed your head Beneath the waves. You think “To catch a breath, ‘Tis one small favor, Can’t He see?” But yes, He sees; So why do gray skies Blacken more And gray waves Lash

I read this poem probably five years ago and have come back to it many times.  It’s easy to see the loving care of God when He answers our prayers the way we want them to be answered.  Sometimes we pray “Your will be done” but in our hearts we