His Grace


I've walked a path so long and aimless
For no where would it lead my day,
Chasing things that were Oh! so needless
That sight was clouded, of The Way.

Wandering through the distant forest,
Nothing there to really see...
All the sights that I was seeking
Hidden by a single tree.

How I sought Him, seeking ever,
Rushing here and rushing there,
Looking through the many castles,
Here on Earth, so very rare.

I was lost, no way to wander,
Hidden blessings n'er to see.
Until, My God, saw in the darkness
Reaching in to rescue me.

He knew my heart was ever seeking
To return into the fold, He held,
Braising me in heat and water
Onto the Mighty Cross, He'd weld.

And when I have tired and fallen,
Lifting with His mighty Hand,
Giving strength and gentle guidance
Make me strong, on foot, to stand.

Everyday, He'll prime my spirit
Priming it with Love so strong,
Lifting me to heights unmeasured
Resistance there to things so wrong.

How could one deny existence
Of one so peaceful and so grand,
One whose greatest love and goodness
Lifted me with His own hand.

Now I linger, teaching others,
Whispering God's word in every ear
For I know the time is coming
When all will need Him, in their fear.

And when that time is close in hand
And all the Nations see His face
I pray that God will know, I love Him,
Enfolding me into His Grace.

For each must seek their own salvation
Asking Him to lend them Grace
And one day in their sublimation,
Each shall see His smiling face.


Author: Carolyn Ford Witt

By Ms. Caroline

© 2007 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)

by Carolyn Ford Witt

Comments (2)

You surely know how to wrote, I like each and every poem of yours
People enjoy poetry for varying reasons of course. Personally, I seek poems that resonate with my experiences, or mindset, or beliefs- that perhaps find words for concepts that I have felt, but could never articulate. A common theme of Kipling's poems, of which this is a definitive example, is that one should recognize and know the flaws in oneself, and instead of being daunted by them, use that knowledge as a starting place from which to work to overcome them. He realized that there is no Triumph without Struggle, and indeed that simply continuing to strive, no matter what, is a triumph in and of itself. This poem has long been a favourite of mine because it elucidates that aphorism so eloquently.