Although the fields will yield no grain,
and clouds in absence bring no rain;
my hope remains in Christ my Lord,
in Him my ageless treasure's stored.

When harps and flutes have ceased to play,
and twilight's fingers capture day.
I'll never fear the restless night,
my soul will rest in God's pure light.

In God I'll mount the light of dawn,
and ride its beams above the storm;
I'll gaze through eyes while soaring high,
and hear the wind's responding cry.

I dwell in realms that lie beyond
the thoughts and fears the soul doth bond.
My heart can flirt with love's sweet dream,
that bears me up on hope's light beam.

R.Owen 6/09/2017