Thoughts

When all the world keeps racing around; 

How can I be slow?

When all around me feels tied down; 

How can I be free?

How can I ask that one would listen?

When sorrow is of all I speak?

But you're right, sometimes even listeners

Shoulders to cry on seek.

I hear the wonder in his voice of concern and care.

I hear the sadness and despair for a friend no longer near.

I hear the shadow of a past engraved in stone.

And yet when I speak, my voice echoes, I stand alone.

The pits of despair shall not keep me down.

I will rise above.

For one leads me through life's fears,

It's His hand, I hold.