MRO ( / East Islip, New York)

A Grain Of Sand

Lord, a small grain of sand am I,
So very, very small, indeed.
Lo, sweet Jesus, hold on ever so tightly to me! Yes, ever so tightly in your wondrous care.
Do not let the oceans swoop o'er me,
Or, mountains of sand crush me,
But rather cover me, Sweet Savior, when others will trample over me,
Or, without a thought, or a care, brush me aside brutally! Lift me up from the noise and turmoil,
Mold me, as you will, from sand and soil,
Wash me clean and in the sunlight...
Let me ever sparkle and gleam.
Protect me, sweet Shepherd of my soul,
Allow nothing indeed, of this world to smother or entrap me,
Rather, "free" let me be and open to the wind,
No hand or foot attached me be.
Truly, let me be swept up, by your mighty hand,
To rise "up, up, up" through the air away from this wasteland.
So, patiently, I wait, for only a grain of sand am I,
But with you, in an instant can I fly away above the clouds, and into your waiting arms.

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