There must be a place

 

I stand here at the edge of the road

The cross road…

The edge is the ditch of shame

How can one so zealous for his saviour be in such a place as this…

There must have been a wrong turn a planting of some sort that didn’t grow

And I came alone so I am

I go on but to what point and cause

Go to the North

Will I find one there

Go to the South are there any there who care

What if

Were I to the east where all the harsh storms come

Oh maybe to the west to the setting of the sun

But if I here remain

How ever shall I find life and change

Was I not planted long ago

What uproot now and where to go

Seems a fools foul game unwittingly I played

But still look I and believe

There must be a place

 

 

There Must Be A Place

Hubert Rondeau

 

 

All my fountains are in you my hope of life each day

My chance to breathe

My heart that beats thanks to God my king

Hurriedly I go to do to do my daily things

To work to to toil to strive to live to life to life to bring

To home to come at evening time to sit with you and rest

Awhile

To smile and just to know

That though I’m grown

A man I’m like a child father

Father I’m your child

Thank you

Hubert Rondeau