Show me . . . I whisper into the winds.
Touch me . . . bend me
like rustling limbs.
As a tree that bends to kiss the hills.
Wind that ripples streams and quiet windowsills.

Show me . . . Touch me
I feel You close...
all I want is to loveYou most.
Not to let my heart be lead astray
by things that tempt, but do not stay.
Their promises in vain they give . . .
but Yours are strong and still they live.
Why do I wander? Why do I run?
From the One whose battle's won.
For me You fought, for me You died
and in my loneliness I cried . . .

How can You love such as me?
So far from you
sometimes I cannot see . . .
And yet, You smile and always say . . .
"Come here, my child.
Come here and stay."
Without You I could not face this life.
And those who try, face endless strife.
I'm coming.
Running like a child.

Encourage me . . . for that final mile.

~
Misty Taggart
~
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