Words for Lisa

Faith Beyond Our Understanding Presents a Light Beyond the Clouds

I write—but words are spectral things,

They dance like wraiths in hollow air,

They weave in vain their silvered strings,

Yet fail to heal your heart’s despair.

The book I’ve shaped is rich, complete,

Yet cold its lines, as marble cast—

No verse can rouse the slumber sweet,

No rhyme restores the love that’s passed.

O cruel Muse! Thy songs betray!

They sing, yet hush when most they’re needed,

They light the dark, then fade away,

Like dreams too fair, like hopes unheeded.

Yet still—hushed whispers on the air—

I pray you feel His presence there.