Songbird, songs of grace and the mercies known are in the heart.
Songbird, dead of winter is gone and the new season of Hope brings forth the blessings.
Bless us oh Father, your holy servants cry!
Bless us those whose rivers run dry.
For the meadows are rich and the blessings are few.
Bring forth the laborers with blessings anew.
Heal us oh Father with your hand of grace.
For your outstretched arm sing testimonies of space.
For when this day is gone and the sunsets anew,
The blessings shall follow your laboring few.
The harvest awaits with hearts prepared.
This day shall come and leave none unaware.
Songbirds dispatch and the seasons fall.
For when the Father sings the ultimate call.
Let those who have ear, for they shall hear,
That the spirit of the Lord brings peace not fear.
Let men come now with all and plenty.
For the Kingdom come this year for many.
Scribe for the King
It's what He said... "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches." Revelation 2:7