You are the lending.
Shield and sword, majestic lord,
my strength, my hope, my happy ending.
You,
the wall that cannot fall,
the tree that stands against my storm,
my gale.
You hold your form
when words impale
your heart.
When I alone am blown apart,
you are my mending.
Pain I never was intending,
you endure.
Your love is sure
when I am condescending.
You,
the reed unbending,
my refuge
from the flood impending,
my flesh and blood.
You watched me flower
from a bud,
believed me when I was pretending.
Father,
when you are gone,
who’ll sing this song
to where you go?
You
are
my
life
How will I know
the way
to do the sending?
