Here, in the doldrums of the heart,
I, patient, wait with unshipped oar
And count the stars and drink the rain
For I have been this place before.
Long I could labour in the waves
And move my boat a little space
But hidden currents mock my pains.
I wait the rising wind of grace.
My sails hang slack, but I am taut
With expectation; You are real
I know, with simple certainty,
Your breeze, Your breath, I soon shall feel.
I know, and I delight to know,
Your hour shall come, Your wind shall rise
I shall behold Your glory’s dawn
Through tears of joy that blur my eyes.