His Voice
Cynthia Clawson
It comes in quiet moments with the softest breeze
Like the colors of a rainbow
When dark clouds finally leave
It sounds like a widow sighing weeping near new graves
Like a hungry baby's crying to near death to say
His voice is like a whisper
Pleading soft and low
Calling us to follow
Causing us to want to grow
His voice is what reminds me
When I'm on my knees
When it did it unto me
He did it to the least of these
He comes at lonely times
In gardens wet with dew
Like jewels on soft velvet
His sacred words are true
They're endless and ever near
He sends the fatal call
He takes the bitter dreads
And slowly drains them all
His voice is like a whisper
Pleading soft and low
Calling us to follow
Causing us to want to grow
His voice is what reminds me
When I'm on my knees
When it did it unto me
He did it to the least of these