Poetry

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The Grave

Do not try to contact me
It is too late
Do not look for me
I have gone away
There is nothing but the faded memory of what once was
A faint little boy writhing for his next breath
Yesterday has seen my end and I rejoice in it
Today has bore a man
Unwilling to succumb to the rebel of his youth
A refrain from the acknowledgement that lost must remain the condition between me and alone
Mature in Spirit and strong in weakness
The old has gone away
The new has come
And it is Truth at last I find
The Way of freedom that i have been freely given
The power of the Spirit that raised Christ from His grave
Has now raised me from mine

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