His Gaze

Make sense,

Oh please make sense,

Life has to make sense.

I turn,

I yearn,

I burn,

I stumble,

At times I will crumble.

Things, please make sense.

I turn,

I burn,

I yearn,

...I search.

Up I look,

And behold on my wall's hook,

Is a familiar image,

Up high on a cross.

The gaze from the cross,

Catches my eye.

I stare long and hard.

This is what suffering is for,

It's to be close,

To the Lord I adore.

I will turn,

To the Lord!

I will yearn,

For the Lord!

My heart will burn,

For the Lord!

And when I stumble,

And crumble,

It will be a reminder,

that Our Lord stumbled

Three times,

Carrying the Cross.

If anything,

Falling again and again,

And never quitting,

Is our way,

Of moving close to Him,

Again and Again!