You don’t ask a fish to shed its scales and take to the sky,
Nor do you ask the flowers to sing a chorus
Yet you ask me to have hope?
But in my heart of hearts I know
You called blind men to see
And deaf men to hear,
The lame to leap
and me to be one of Yours.
So if you ask me to hope, what can I do?
I will no longer breathe in the murky waters of the deep,
But will exchange my scales for wings.
I won’t bloom in silence,
But will praise you in every wilting and florescence.
I will lay my fears aside