As I stand alone in Spirit’s grove, my ear again turns to heed the lighting dove;
The world about burns like heated stove, yet stillness in this Eden’s love.

Combatants strive and strike, assail – the crowds about with tempest react;
Yet stillness in the vine and nail – the shepherd’s flock, their words redact.

A time is coming when all be clear, but blinded eyes yet lost in fear.
Secret streams in garden flow; olive branch by it will grow.

“The world is lost!” Cried the blinded man, as he slew to gain upper hand.
But in the still the Truth rejoices though deception grows and gains her voices.

Lies arise, deceptions gained, Truth obscured, and bitter pained.
Shall we eschew the branching bud, and flee away from earthly blood?

Where is the line of demarcation, in the earth or heavens recreation?
But Word was flesh once long ago; and so it is, do you not know?

Ps 27:13
I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.

John 15:4
Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me.