To You, Oh Lord, my soul doth fly.
Dreams of You from yesteryear.
When as a child I walked
through the fields
and down by the crick.
Sometimes, I walked in the pines
as I felt the soft needles below my feet.
At these places I would talk
with my dearest Friend
and that, Oh Lord,
You know is You.
Your voice was always clear
Although, it could not
be heard by the human ear,
but by a child's heart.
Deserted by the world, but never by You
Today I laid dreaming of those
years once again.
They seemed so crisp and clear.
Again heart to heart You walked
by Your little's one side
telling me things no human ear
could hear.
Tracey Griffith 1998
Please feel free to e-mail me at Gchaplets@aol.com with any questions or if you just want to drop a line and say hello.