How does the man with mem’ry short
Tell others what you’ve done,
The man who has no past report
To show the paths you’ve run?
Is it mem’ry that has failed?
Just maybe it’s his eyes.
With holy sight darkly veiled
He misses heaven’s skies.
He disconnects your active hand
From tools that you have used,
And so your movement in the land
With nature is confused.
And thus, no stories he can tell
Of your redeeming ways,
He misses sight of Spirit’s swell
Beneath him all his days.
I often find myself like him,
Not seeing how you move.
As over time my sight grows dim,
Your hand so hard to prove.
Lift the veil that blinds my sight
And let me see you there,
How through the years your guiding light
Was with me ever’ywhere.
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