My Words

From my chest where I did hold
My words where shall I sow
Into the frigid, the oceans cold
Or cast them down to the valley below

For my eyes see not the Shepherd's plough
His touch makes flesh, hearts of stone
Nor things so wretched, foul
Become beautiful through His sacrifice atone

Where to I go, depart from this land
Across the river dividing living and dead
Judgement awaits and those who can withstand
Are left to follow in His stead

Into eternity I long to have stepped
His ways I yearn, I chase
And silence my tongue has kept
My words dwell in His grace

By Pete Scopes