Sweet, Holy Providence

Thank you for road blocks,
For cold stops,
For forced glances at clocks,
For sin is crouching at the door;
Sin – such as I adore;
Sin – donning such masks as
Joy and peace and
Satisfaction. Finally, though, they fall off.
Every mask falls off.
And what is left exposed? Only this:
The bitter taste of counterfeit bliss,
The savory stench of a stolen kiss
Placed upon the lips of death.
That road is always a dead end,
And there is always, in the ignorant mind,
Time to turn back.
So thank you for forced glances
At the minute hand as it dances,
For cold stops on cold nights,
For road blocks that open up the way
To the true Road.

Providence

God has not forgotten
God is not away
He is near the broken
As they weep and pray

God has not forsaken
Those he came to save
His – the stormy ocean
Providence – the wave

Sov’reignty and goodness
Unified in thee
You alone are righteous
Perfect trinity

Trust in his provision
Well beloved ward
Holy disposition
Of the risen Lord