A humble broom in hands of Grace, A metaphor of Christ’s embrace to Lift life's gloom.

With bristles fine and purpose true, He sweeps away what once we knew. Repentant strokes, sins laid bare, Dust of regrets, suspended air.

Love's sweet sweep, a gentle chase, He clears the path, leaves not a trace. Each stroke a pledge, forgiveness found, On sweeping grounds, love shall abound.

Dirt and grime He shall not keep, The broom now cleansing corners deep. Our hope and faith, He wields this tool, Sweeping clean.

From broken paths to bonds made strong, The broom's intent - Christ rights the wrong.

So… With whispers kind, give Him the chance to Let Him cleanse, from this time hence. In love's sweet sweep, we find our way With Christ, now born, a brighter day.