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The Seed
by Holly Jensen 
05/23/07
Not For Sale
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The wind did softly blow that day
As it gently whipped her hair.
And swiftly did she take her way
On that early morning fair.

She went to meet a friend of old.
They’d a long time parted been.
Now remembering her errand bold,
Her head she slowly bent.

“O Lord be with me now today.
My heart is faint though true.
Yet Will I not fear or faint.
My heart will trust in you.”

At this, she reached her journey’s end.
The time had come to speak.
She could not fear or faint or bend.
‘Twas not time to be weak.

Into the place of sickness stark,
The smell of death in the air.
Into the place so gloomy and dark,
Though the morning was bright and fair.

Her friend, she lay on sheets of white.
Her eyes were closed to the day.
The moment seemed as the longest night.
Oh what was there to say?

Then the eyes did open swift.
A smile did light the face.
A hand she did so feebly lift,
Breaching time and space.

Hands were clasped, as in times of old.
Friendship stood strong and true,
Though our lass did feel sensations cold
For what she’d come to do.

“I came to see you now,” she said,
“Not knowing what you’d say.
I’ve waited long enough,” she said,
“I can no longer wait.”

The friend, she listened quietly,
Her eyes not turning cold.
She had not stiffened visibly,
As she had in times of old.

“Speak,” she told her long-time friend.
“’Tis time for me to hear.
So stubborn I have always been,
Though you have been so dear.”

And so our lass began to speak.
The time had come at last.
Still her knees were shaking weak.
Her hands were tightly clasped.

She spoke the words both well and brief,
The message old and true.
She spoke of God’s unending grief
That His children were untrue.

Then she spoke of the little babe
Born so long ago.
He’d come our souls to win and save.
Our death was His great woe.

He met His death so bloody and harsh.
All for us he bled.
Then in the tomb he lay so stark.
Three long days He lay dead.

Then over death He triumphed well.
He rose again from the grave.
Now can we be kept from hell.
We may confess and be saved.

The friend had listened silently,
Not a movement made.
Our lass did finish quietly,
“Will you now be saved?”

The friend, she paused, in silent thought
Then did slowly speak,
“Of your God you well have taught
And how long have prayed for me.

The time has come for me to think
On the words you spoke of him.”
At this our lass’s heart did sink.
The prospect seemed so grim.

No more by her could now be done.
God must take the reigns.
She prayed this soul would soon be won
And from hell and death be saved.

“Good enough,” she said at last.
“I leave you now to sleep.”
With this, she leaned toward her long-time friend
And gently kissed her cheek.

Two days later came the news,
That our lass’s friend had died.
Our lass did kneel in the room
And bitterly did she cry.

How she would miss the friend of old.
A true one had she been.
How she wished she could be told
Of the true state of this friend.

Had our lass known the truth,
How she would feel blessed.
The seed she planted swiftly grew.
In glory her friend did rest.


If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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Member Comments
Member Date
Trevas Walker 29 May 2007
I really liked your poem, sorry to here you missed the cap :-)
Vickie Thomas 24 May 2007
Beautiful story, good writing. Vickie
Amy Michelle Wiley  24 May 2007
Aww, sweet story. Good message!
Catrina Bradley  24 May 2007
Very nice story in your poem - and I just love a happy ending. A couple stanzas tripped me, but overall a great flow. Sorry you missed the cap!
Rita Garcia 24 May 2007
Beautiful! A wonderful gift you have for writing poetry!




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