And Though I Bend

And though I bend under the weight of the day
like a bruised reed bowing to the blast of the wind,
even if the rains come to beat down upon my skin,
the soul can still stand erect in defiance
when the Lord’s spirit is the steel within,
for there is no season to what is eternal,
no frailty to slay what will never die
when faith is the iron that flows inside.

What comes against the body is only a touch
compared to immortality,
should it bear its fingers by razor traces
still it will never stop the wings of belief
that is a shear power that treats God’s word
as a shield that can never be destroyed.

We face the dents, valleys and shadows
along the path before our feet,
but they are only steps of temporal prints,
never the place we shall always dwell.

In the mind is Heaven’s canvas,
a theater to see the image of our destiny,
just let that view be the very essence,
which gives any moment of struggle
visions to warm with their light.

So we can face those journeys through cactus
ever holding onto that sight
of that home that awaits
where nothing shall scar again.