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  • Writer's pictureDeb Killian

The Music of the Nations

A heart

no longer my own

cries out for those left behind.

Smiles on faces so dear,

eyes burning with desire,

raised arms hungry for more.

Roads traveled once

and yet a million times.

Take me to Your throne of Grace.

Knight me as a forerunner

for Your people.

Set my feet in motion.

I weary of being still.

Throw me before the water brook

that I may quench my thirst.

Father, offer up that level of passion

That wavers above.

Calling, beckoning,

inviting me.

Let my hands touch heaven

as I dance once again

to the music

of the Nations.

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