Storm is my horse,
He's a "prancer" through and through,
Nervous of his surroundings,
And of what one might do.

Eyes wide, head held high,
Uncertain of what's in-store,
Seem to point to painful scars
He received once before.

But, to know his master's heart,
Though I am just a man,
He'd eagerly lower his head,
And before me, calmly stand.

He'd sense that I know his need,
The need to be loved, of course;
He'd find his master seeks his good…
For he is my horse.

Never to feel a strike from my fist;
Just the gentle stroke of my palm,
As I speak to him in a whisper,
"Trust in me…Storm, be calm."

But to miss this lesson for myself,
I really could not afford;
In trials, I too, grow anxious,
As I "prance" before the Lord.

Not trusting in His loving heart
That only seeks my good,
Untrusting of His sovereign hand,
Though I know I should.

Not hearing what my Master says,
Particularly in the Psalms,
Which whisper to my restless soul…
"Trust in Me...storm be calm."

"They that go down to the sea in
ships...see the works of the LORD, and his
wonders in the deep. For he commandeth, and
raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the
waves thereof... He maketh the storm a calm,
so that the waves thereof are still."
Psalms 107:23-25,29 (KJV)

"And there arose a great storm of wind,
and the waves beat into the ship, so that it
was now full... And he [Jesus] arose, and rebuked
the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still.
  And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm." 
Mark 4:37,39 (KJV)

©2003 A. Mitchell Moore, Jr.