How dark and twisted paths does the river of time run!
Who could guess that the roaring streams of paradise,
Were quietly born in breathless heights of frost?
I run the race of life, but how would I know I’d won?
We build great castles as memorials of our pride,
Accumulate treasures that shine brighter than the sun,
Hold ourselves esteemed as a glowing bride,
And think, “I am mighty. From me do all rivers run.”
Oh puny human, how small and and defenseless you are.
“From dust you have been made, and to dust you shall return.”
You are bound to fate like a reed blowing against the wind,
Helpless as the sowers reap with the might of those above.
What could you possibly dream, and wish it were as planned?
How can you hold yourself king of all, yet master of none?
We sail the vile seas, cross deserts of death and climb mountains,
Our lives hang by a thread, yet there’s One who holds us up,
There’s One whom we can anchor ourselves and count in.
When all else fails, he tenderly whispers “take my cup.”
We are indeed masters of our ship, captains of our destiny.
For the waves we sail are guided by His gentle hand,
And the halls of eternal light are shone by His will supreme.
And though our boat may be rocked or stuck in sand,
Though our spirit be banished and heart struck by sword,
We can safely say, “Lord, let it be done according to your word.”
Let me live in poverty, oh Lord, completely dependent upon you. Having nothing for myself but your love. Amen.