Wearing despair's dark mantle, bowed in grief,
I sailed rebellious waters; on my head,
The ashes of my dreams. I craved relief
From sorrow's cross. My son--my all--was dead.
The octopus of war had barrened me--
The joy of watching children's children grow
Was ever lost. Within Gethsemane
The darkness fringed with silver; through the glow
There came the Master's timeless lyric, "Peace!"
With Him I walked calm waters of release.