Desires of my heart yearned to be heard,
So on its pages I wrote my own story,
And hoped that it would mirror Yours for me.
But on its way to a happy ending,
My plot lost its way,
Disintegrating a little more each day into greater dismay.
Like a promising idea gone ugly,
Toils of emotion burdened the spirit,
And the more I adjusted the sails,
The greater my plight in the storm became.
One day, I decided it's okay to lose control
Of a story so precious to me,
and released all that were secured in my hands.
In losing hope for my own creation,
Of my own prose and diction,
You fill my pages with breathtaking words
Beyond my comprehension,
And in that crafts a beautiful development of my life -
One still very much in the making.
I close this chapter in my heart,
And I wait on You to write the next.
Because, in all of this,
I've learnt no greater lesson
Than the peace found in trusting my ultimate Author.