70 Times 7

Unto what shall I liken my struggled walk in life

Unto a breath without air

Gasping and grasping

For that which I can clearly see

And ever try to be

But like unto the shining stars

Of heaven’s glory above

Lies as it would seem

High above my reach

Yet my hands are stretched heavenward

Unto what shall I compare the hope which I have for change

To the light of sun above the storm

Breaking through betimes

With the brilliance of gleam

And a glimpse of the dream

But even as the delicate flower

Of the desert plain

It withers and returns to the ground

Hidden once again from view

Yet my faith awaits the rains of spring

And what likeness portrays my will to go on

The waves of the wind driven sea

Ever striving to come ashore

Yet each time falling back

For gravity they lack

But like the shimmering beauty

Of the freshly fallen snow

Though it turns to grey and melts away

Yet is destined to come again

So also am I resolved to return in the season

And never surrender

Until seventy times seven