Conductor of My Soul

Because our world is a noisy place . . .

Amidst the cacophony, come.
Take up the baton
In those hands, strong and nail-scarred.

Tune and refine,
Direct and orchestrate--
Set in motion every fiber of my being.

With soaring crescendos
and with gentle whispers,
blow Your sweet breath of life.

Round out the stridence,
Steady the tempo,
Shape, Mold, and caress.

My eyes are fixed
On You,
O Conductor of My Soul.

        . . . Barbara Lister Williams