Sweet flower of the desert
Thy roots go down deep
Seeking living water
So life you will keep
Thy soul knows the heat
Of the life that you run
But thy face looks upwards
To catch the smile of the Son
Wilt that you might
In the hot desert sand
But thou are nourished daily
In this parched land
For the Creator He sees
The hardship of His flower
And shadows her with His hand
Every sun scorched hour
No rose could ever bloom
Or lily gilded with sweet attire
Could thrive in the temperament
Of the desert heat as a fire
When He sees that she needs it
He sends the gentle shower
And revives the precious soul
Of His own desert flower
Colin Moffett