The Awaited Suitor

My heart pines away; I sing the blues.
I ask now and then: Where are you?

Are you real? Are you there for me?
When will I see you? When shall it be?

I face the horizon; I take Christ's hand.
In great expectation, I look over the land.

Nothing happens; oh woe is me.
What shall I do? When will it be?

With tears in my eyes, I look up and smile.
Christ cups my face, and after awhile

He softly speaks, and breaks the news:
"I am the one who was chosen for you."

"Can you love me, year after year,
As you would have loved him if he had appeared?"

My face grew pale, and my body shook.
I took his hand, too frightened to look.

Then I agreed to give it a try.
My suitor was here; he had finally arrived.