| I can hear a gentle rustle as the curtains move about
|
| But the strain and daily hustle tend to drown You out
|
| I cannot see Your presence but I know where You have been
|
| And I long to be a feather at the mercy of the wind
|
| I cannot really hold You but I feel You in my life
|
| Oh, how I long to see you but You’re somewhere out of sight
|
| Oh, I know that I am blind but where I’m going in the end
|
| You’ll open up my eyes so I can see the wind
|
| And when I hear the thunder I know that You draw near
|
| And then I’ll watch in wonder as the evidence appears
|
| Waves grown mighty at Your bidding, trees bow their branches low
|
| Only truth remains undaunted in the power You can show, You can show
|
| I cannot really hold You but I feel You in my life
|
| Oh, how I long to see you but You’re somewhere out of sight
|
| Oh, I know that I am blind but where I’m going in the end
|
| You’ll open up my eyes so I can see the wind
|
| It scatters seeds where the farmers have not sown
|
| And it utters prayers in a language yet unknown
|
| No one knows quite where You’re going but we see where You have been
|
| And when I get where I’m going that’s when I’ll see the wind
|
| I cannot really hold You but I feel You in my life
|
| Oh, how I long to see you but You’re somewhere out of sight
|
| Oh, I know that I am blind but where I’m going in the end
|
| You’ll open up my eyes so I can see the wind, so I can see the wind |