He's Here

There is a Lifter of my head,
when for no good reason my heart sags.
To say I'm foolish; look instead,
to the One who waves His love as flags.

When empty hearts to Him retreat,
He can provide the sustenance.
When praise's garments sorrow meet,
can will our weary feet to dance.

Our efforts fail; we need the gift,
the fruit of joy the Spirit bring,
that gives the garment jaunty lift,
wakes on our lips the will to sing.

So, when our arms are hanging down,
paths our feet take, aimless,unclear,
Remember, "never left,"no frown.
The "Lifter", God, is always here.