I stand—an Olive Tree—upright—
In God’s own House—my Root—
His Love—a Stream that feeds—my Life—
His Truth—my lasting Fruit—
The wicked boast—their Tongues—do slice—
Like Razors—sharp with Lies—
Yet God—He sees—their fleeting Pride—
And bids—their Ruin—rise—
But I—am held—in Holy Ground—
My Branches—spread with Praise—
His Name—is Good—His Mercy—sure—
My Hope—through endless Days—
No Wealth—nor Power—can steal—my Place—
For God—my Stronghold—stands—
I flourish—safe—in Love’s—embrace—
Upheld—by Faithful Hands—
… teknaTruth – on Psalm 52