My soul cries upon the Lord, seeking Him
Crying and searching my heart goes on lost
A dove with broken wings, love without a host
Hiding of shame, following every whim
Flew further away--- the nest dying: dim.
The skies are dark, the clouds hovering in
Despair! With rain and thunder pouring grim
Taking a turn, this will no longer be
The dove’s head held up high with wings restored
He takes her in His hands, loving her greatly
A tree is growing--- tower from her Lord
I see things clearer, my path unburied.
I am full of joy with my God adored