Afloat upon the current trends as factions push and pull.
Don’t know what’s coming ‘round the bend. New schools of thought to mull.
High priests of spirits, stars and stone, yet truth is no where found.
Shake my foundations to the bone. Oh send Your stable ground.
Adrift among the silent seas, the doldrums settle in.
No hint of storm nor sign of breeze along the horizon.
The sails of chance that hang like shrouds remind me I have sinned.
Send rays of hope through parting clouds. Oh send Your soothing wind.
Awander through the trials of life, they tell you, sink or swim.
Absorbing times of doubt and strife, perform at other’s whim.
Please add the coal and make me whole. Burn up the slag and mire.
Stoke the forge and temper my soul. Oh send Your cleansing fire.
Arest upon the dusty ground, the heat upon my brow,
where grit and grime of toil are found, relief is needed now.
Cool mist descending from above to wash away the stain.
Petition I, the gift of grace. Oh send Your healing rain.
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