Lord,
You are my bus driver.
You're the trolley engineer,
You spread out the slopes and sediment
beneath these tracks.
You lead me down a new road,
where daisies and lavender flowers spill like fireworks
over the red curb.
You restore my soul with a blooming yellow star tree.
You lead me home; I am never stranded.
Even though I walk beside fast cars
and down dark streets in the rain,
You protect me.
Fear doesn't belong in the company of my thoughts.
You comfort me with the glow of the afternoon
dropping through shadows from windows above
the Fifth Avenue station,
with prism sparks off edges of glass,
and the thrushes chewing white starfish petals
in the bushes.
You greet me by name
when everyone else, when I
close up like a potato bug.
You embrace all my thoughts.
Can it be,
that goodness and mercy
will pursue me all my life?
May I dwell in Your presence
always and in all Your ways.
