He watched her from his bird’s eye view.
Standing in waves of flaxen hue,
Merged with sky of palest blue.
Above, out her sight, He moved His hand.
Whispered a word she would understand,
“All your tears have long been planned.”
Looking back, she searched for proof,
That her Highest Love, told the truth.
She saw that since her early youth,
He had loved and cared and carried,
She had senselessly often worried.
Alas, but did her Savior bleed.
And with His wounds did intercede.
For her joy, and strength peace He plead,
“You’re beautiful and mine,” He said.