THE RIVER
THE RIVER
The stones laid to isolate
Adamant in our containment
Shudder and quake
Made loose in their commitment
The shackles wrought to restrain
Heavy in ceaseless hanging
Now grasp empty air
With broken echoed clanging
Praise our God, King of Kings
Like the mountains shouting your glory
Like the hills in rolling worship
We lift Him up in psalm and story
Thorn of my flesh
How insignificant under the Lord’s brand
What was my pain now wiped away
By the piercing of His hand
In You we stand Lord Jesus
What was sheer reaching cliffs
Now an open field of golden fleece
Hair blown through salted whiffs
You call our name
With innate and intimate talk
Lamb to the world slain
Alive shepherd to the flock
Dear Brothers and Sisters
Defeat in our lives be contradictory
We stay and come to Him
For in Jesus, we share the victory
by Sean-Michael Tisdale