The Number of My Days
Just like a blossom’s fragile frame,
Just like a fire’s fickle flame,
Like starlight’s beauty fades with dawn,
So will my days on earth be gone.
Though oh so short my life on earth
And while all worldly treasure’s worth
Will fade as grass in passing fields
My Savior’s blood from death me shields.
My breath I take to sing to God.
My song, when raised, though sounding flawed,
Gives praise to Him Who made the stars –
For my life hides within Christ’s scars.