My soul has been weary,
exhausted,
frazzled and fried,
troubled and tired,
worn out with other's cares.
The Lord is my Shepherd.
He restores my soul
on a narrow coastal path,
with sheer cliff face.
My stride has slowed,
watching for the time
in my over busy life,
that I can rest.
Bracken and purple tufted heather
tumble down to the
white tipped waves,
meeting billowed mist
rolling off towering rocks.
I come here
full of expectancy,
that I will somehow
find my answer
in this place.
Wild goats wander
the impossible incline,
with a sure footed
defiance of gravity.
I find myself still
in a hurry to do life,
unwilling to truly rest
for time is preciously short
We stride out
resisting the threatening skies,
buffeted by wind
at times so loud
we cannot hear each other's words.
South Wales nestles
in the far distance,
among cloud castle ramparts.
The late afternoon
creeps towards dusk.
I begin to find peace,
held securely
in God's strong hands,
on this winding way.
The busy past and restless future
are somehow kept at bay,
and surrounded by
His own Creation,
the Lord begins
to restore my soul.
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