Alone she waits at the edge of waters,
Keenly listening to the whispers
Carried by the Wind from the Creator
To the ears of His bride and lover.
Her willing heart enables the good Lord
To keep promises as per His Word.
Thus He allows her to bloom rich & rare,
Free from all toils, or sorrow’s care.
The mysterious Wind teases her gently,
Makes her sway and dance lightly,
As her petals silently open up for the day,
And under the Sun, frolic and play.
She worries not of the past or the future;
The present is what really matters,
As she waits alone at the edge of waters,
Hoping to hear the soft whispers.
Her wish for mysteries of God to unravel
Is met through the Gift of Revival,
That takes place in the heart, soul & mind
Through whispers of a loving kind.
Whispers, so clear, unique and enthralling:
Slowly filter across to effect feeling
Of gratitude and love from the atrium of heart.
That life may continue as God’s Art.
Never was such captivating voice heard before;
Assuredly, it settled in heart’s core.
To work in our scarred life, that others may know,
That for love and to Him alone, we bow.
A. Anato Swu