| The Touch January 4, 2008 Justene Martin |
My soul awaits the touch Of His undying hand. I so desire to hear His voice Revealing who I am. I know that I shall perish If left to my own ways, I need the Father’s touch To lead me through my days. I thirst to point of death, If I cannot get a drink Of his own living water, To refresh me ‘ere I sink. As a newborn baby Needs a mother’s touch to thrive, I need my saviors touch It is what keeps me alive. And you my wayward friend Though you try to pretend. You crave that true existence Of His love that has no end. |