Calling

Can’t you hear it?

There! There it is again

Someone is calling.

Softly, gently calling.

It comes like a gentle breeze.

A voice of tenderness,

It’s plea caresses your ear,

And reaches deep down to your soul.

It brings a delightful sense of love,

All encompassing, ever accepting.

Listen, listen, who can it be?

Who could be calling with such an urgent plea?

Who could give this wonderful feeling of love?

Where does it come from?

It has such warmth, enfolding you

And surrounding you in a healing embrace.

Then it suddenly becomes so clear.

That voice can only come from above.

Only one can give of such love.

It comes from the one who gave His life.

That precious life that spilled out His blood

For all mankind to see

And to bring healing to a dying world.

He is calling, "Come, come to me."

"My love is pure, my love doesn’t change."

"My love accepts all, big and small."

"Come, come and see all that you can have."

"I have such plans for you."

"Only I can return your hope."

"Come, rest your weary body in my embrace."

Can’t you hear Him calling?

By: Ann Martin

March 18, 2001

 

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