And the winds pick up
And the rain comes down
And my branches are thrown all around
But I will not be moved away.
My God is my home,
And in Him, I will stay.
You’re a tree,
But you don’t admire your stability,
All this life is vain,
Transcendence is futility.
Heartbeats like lonely fists,
Knocking on countless doors,
Searching for a vain love, or a dim light,
For we refuse to receive what our flesh abhors.
Even in our selfishness, we find rest,
But love is vitality. Without it,
We act like angry children,
Taken suddenly from the breast.
I’m sick of this world and all its attitudes,
It’ll never change, never choose the truth,
So I’ll rise away from all its platitudes,
To the God they thought lacked proof.
I need something real
Something that’s mine with You
Something that won’t fall apart every time I do
I need something to hold on to.