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
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