The Observer
By: Naa Doodua Doodu
I know You’re watching over me,
Hearing my cries, though silent You seem to be.
Is this, too, a form of reply?
I wonder, am I truly Your child?
Is it not my turn to feel Your grace,
To see blessings flow, to find my place?
Why must my path be paved with pain?
Is this my trial, my lesson to gain?
Yet in the struggle, I’ll follow still,
For I trust in Your wisdom, Your perfect will.
Your yoke is gentle, Your burden light,
And in the shadows, You bring the light.
