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A bird alone, a dove am I

in a myrtle tree whose leaves are gone

exposed to the snow…the freezing rain

wings of silver…but a silent song

 

No one hears and no one knows

the cry of a tender bird

his thoughts alone ascend on high

his tenderness is yet unheard

 

The sunset of a little life

how quickly the darkness falls

outward struggles – inner strife

twisted words…how great, how small

 

Tears on the branches, frozen on my brow

splashed against your tender love

I know that you see, but remember me now

a sunrise planned for a broken dove

 

Injured inside, my wing also frail

with snow upon my back

let Your voice heal and let Your word warm

keep my little foot from catching in a trap

 

Hide my little heart in Your mighty hand

and write Your love upon my soul

cover me tender under Your wings

guard my life, and save me whole

 

May I do unto others

What You have done for me

May I hide them, heal them, protect them

A nest for them…yet built in Thee