I Won't Sit Still

The moss grows soft on any tree
Where sunlight wanes and moisture clings.
Conditions there are right, you see
For moss to grow in tender spring.

Now, I'm unlike that old tree
Which is stuck and grows in that spot.
I move around, free as can be,
And turn my back to cold or hot.

I'll use this life I'm given...
Won't be so still that moss can grow.
Ere troubles come while I'm liv'in,
I'll seek the Son with heart aglow.

I'll keep on pressing toward the mark...
Won't hide talents in the attic.
To other lives I'll send a spark
'Cause life in Him is not static!