In every life Woe presses down, We falter then— Face to the ground. This woe in me— Am I alone? Without high ground, Can’t see my home! I reach for earth— Find only sand. No foothold here, No place for hand. My open eyes Then finally see Above this world His plan for me. Hand of my God Now touches mine, There all along— My soul He finds. Why here on earth? This land of woe? So we can love— God’s grace to show. These woes in life They will soon pass, Guard flame of faith— God’s grace will last. Copyright 2019 Michael Charles Maibach began writing poems at age nine. Since then he has continued writing poems, and sharing them with friends. In November 2015 he opened a Facebook page – Poems of Michael Charles Maibach. It offers 140 poems written since then. His career has involved global business diplomacy. He is a native of Peoria, Illinois. Today Michael resides in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia.