When in frustration quiet tears begin to fall ,
He holds me close
And with His arms around me I need not explain.
Because He knows.
and how much more He understands when, in anger ,
I beat my fists against His chest and scream and stamp my foot,
shouting 'Why' and 'How long?'
And His scarred hands wait for me to drop ,
Where, on th'unyielding ground my body sobs with nothing left to say,
How tenderly He scoops me up .
No, I cannot escape His love for He will never let me go.
Each time I raise my head,
I find my tears ,
Reflected ,
In His eyes
Eyes of the King (r.scantlebury)
Gillian
7th January 2021