Finding God
If tomorrow's sun should falter
and fail to light the morning sky;
if the stars their courses alter
and, erratic, collide and die;
if the moon, that fair pretender,
slips naked, aimless, through the night,
disrobed of all her splendor
and frigid from the lack of light;
still may my soul go on daring
and unafraid my footsteps fall
in the light that glows unerring
from the One who, wooing, calls;
for that love light burns undaunted
beamed from the heart of Heaven's Dove;
though by darkness I am taunted,
my soul, press onward in God's love.
Copyright, 1987
Faye Lanham Gibson
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