Poetry

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I've never met Jesus
Not seen his face.
Never held his hand
But tried to walk in his ways
I've always wondered
What he would think
What would he say
If I was to meet him, what would he say
When he sees me going my merry way.

I've read about him lots
About the way he walked this Earth
thwarting Satan and his plots
'Gentle Jesus, meek and mild'
As he held the little child.
Furious Jesus whipping the cheats
Who stole life with a smile
And said 'pay the temple tax'
'Or God will cut you off with his axe'

I've never met him in my comfortable life
One that has so little strife
But the other day I saw a man
Struggling with an empty can
What it contained I knew not
But it hadn't been a lot
He stank like you wouldn't believe
'But maybe' I thought
His troubles I could relieve
If I would take the time
To listen like his troubles were mine

As I walked along my way
I realised that there was something I heard one say
'Well done' the voice whispered in my ear
But there was no one near
I've still never met Jesus
So I thought
But something, no someone told me that's not true
For as I did what I knew to do
He told me I did meet him
One that other day
And I helped him on his way!

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