Above me the somber sky so high, Rages in storm-like waves,
If so cold my frame,
Why is my heart aflame?
There's a fire so hot its ire,
Sets alight the dampest heart,
The kindling's not of dwindling wood,
the flesh and bone of each martyr.
So I laugh at heavens stormy threatens,
For I am a child of my God,
I've been beckoned and covenantly reckoned,
Redeemed and sanctified by His mercy and rod.
Lo how the Son bursts forth as One,
With the father and Spirit, all three,
Brilliantly outlined for me to see,
In contrast to the past of darkness.
The clouds of gloom and dimness of fog,
Sharpen vision and scatter apparition,
Leaving the bones of truth and reality of God,
Rain that does not stain, pain that sanctifies.
Copyright of Lauren East
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