Roll the stones
Or
Roll the bones.
Be what may
Or
May what be?
This little life I live
Is nothing short of insanity.
This little light I give
Is nothing short of heavenly.
So night goes up
And dawns its dusk in day,
So sight goes up,
My soul, for You, to play!
Deem me as Your own,
The weapon from Your hand.
And keep me as Your own,
Sifted through like salt and sand.
And I’ll go to bed a daughter,
And I’ll wake up a woman.
I was born from my mother’s water
And resurrected Yours chosen.
Just as You’ve pursued the one
Who strayed from the ninety-nine,
So you found me, Your redwood,
Among a family of pines.
And I find no pride
In how my trunk is black,
And how my leaves are grey.
But You’ve filled me from the inside;
By Your Spirit I’m in no lack,
And I’m nourished by light of day.
—
Photo Credit: Paige Heaney