The scene was set one early dawn,
as he rode his steed out on the plain.
Wild sage hung heavy in the mist,
lighting upon his love awaiting -
he hoped among the brush.
Dust billowed of tempest speed,
riding fearless with hallowed purpose.
Blessed cargo slapping his back,
protected in the deep of his satchel.
Questions clouded his brow.
Would she be there, his one true love?
By the trees of hidden water?
And accept the vision of calloused work,
of a home that would bind them forever?
A silhoutte rose to meet him.
He slid off the beast of frothing sweat,
and guided his love to the promise.
He painted the plain with each tomorrow,
then reached in the deep of his satchel.
Their witness to this virgin land.
He pressed sweet fingers to his lips,
and whispered in her ear.
Then placed them on the Holy Word,
with a squeeze of warm assurance.
A tear touched his wrist.
They pledged their love, their hearts, their home,
to the Author of new beginnings.
'Being sure of what they sorely hoped for,
and certain of what they could not see.'*
Faith the seed first planted.
Planted by the Hand of One.
*Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR,
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