Flowing along its banks,
and often saying thanks….
The river must flow
On, you know,
Through its straights and cranks.
He finds one drifting nearby,
Hearing their uncertain cry….
Waters with Word
They are restored,
Sooner or later say bye!
Onward their river flows,
Until it’s final repose……
someday to rise
Into the skies,
As their Creator knows!
And what of restorer of their breaches,
He too heads for sandy beaches……
along his way
He too will stay
A while during restful reaches.
what of the initial joys?
One feels as the Lord employs….?
See much clearer,
Better hearing of God their choice!
How often a river needs repair?
As often as it finds breaking banks there….
Helps it flow clearer,
As expressions of the Father’s care!
The feelings of those who repair,
Seeing charges leave holds no despair…
They will meet again
By the ocean when,
the Lord calls them into the air.