Master Of The Storm

By Carol Chkoreff


Trying to sleep on my bed at night and battling fears,

drove me to find a place of solace for all of my tears.

Tears pent up and painfully needing to explode kept,

me awake with tortuous thoughts and fears that wept.


Holding onto my God given faith and grace strongly,

balancing the weight of all the concerns so wrongly.

Knowing that my mind and heart searched for peace,

and crying out to God alone to speak His only release.


Master of this storm please relinquish the curtain,

and allow me to see things from Heavens' certain.

Needing a word from Heaven is no new emergency,

and calling on the Lord to speak His golden currency.


Golden currency from Heaven and eternal great value,

presence of God plow through my fielded brain so true.

Weightier than the mightiest fortress and bastion of old,

crash through my fears and calm my tested faith as gold.


Purified with the greatest care and measuring spoon,

sensing that all of my woes were in the Master's tune.

A new song sprang from my inner most depths of care,

love for me in my circumstance with Heaven's sweet air.


So troubled soul with dread of what the new day brings,

sound the new song of His amazing love that He sings.

Singing into my spirit in the early morning hours fresh,

with hope of a new day to surface of His sweet refresh.