Poetry

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When the wicked rise to power, people go into hiding.
The fear of the Lord is there, but the fear of man overriding.
But when the wicked perish, all the righteous thrive.
Their flocks and herds, their hearts and souls, suddenly come alive!

I looked out the window and saw my brothers;
The old men were walking along.
I remembered those boys, the sons of my mother;
I remembered when they were strong!

The passing of time takes a toll on your soul.
And some grow bitter and cold.
It’s a terrible thing to still feel so young.
And remember that you’re getting old!

But what will the future hold for me?
I know that its grace and peace!
Father open the door as I wait on this shore.
And let me walk across troubled seas!
In Jesus’ name, Amen!

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