Though I'm growing weary
And roads grow longer still
And time, it mars my body
And sorrow wounds my will
I stand on solid mountains
Though winds howl against their faces
And bitterness becomes the sun
In light of ancient graces.
Why do I lament bitterly
As though I'm hid away
From eyes of God, or chastened?
I fade not into gray
For God grows neither weary
Nor can he be outdone.
I'm strengthened kindly, wholly
When I belong to such a one.
postscript
For day 28. Harkening back to an older style of mine I think. From Isaiah 40:27-29: Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the Lord , and my right is disregarded by my God”? Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.