Into His Garden
By Frederick Blanchard
I come into his garden to find quiet rest,
Away from the world and from myself,
Where all cares simply fade into nothingness,
Seeking comfort like a babe on eternity’s breast.
Here the air is cool; spared from the day’s heat,
Where drops of dew are sweet as fresh honey,
Filling the air with the aroma of pleasantness,
And the cushion we walk on is like velvet to our feet.
In this place we can stroke the once evasive rainbow,
As we are enlightened about the colors of Gods grace,
We begin to feel the truth of His eternal mercy,
As we absorb this realm of bliss that the Lord begins to bestow.
Entering into His awesome garden of surreal peace,
Where I can drink of His crystal waters,
And find shade under His canopy of eternal life,
I become fulfilled with a love that never will cease.