Poetry

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THE BIRTH OF THE LIGHT

The voice that beckoned at sunrise
It called me again at the set.
And the time that I spent, in between times
Was a journey like none I had met.
For He showed this tired pilgrim a purpose
And a meaning in all that had been
When I took up the cross,
At the feet of the One
Who bore sorrow and traitorous sin.

No more could I think on my faithlessness
As I gazed at my Friend on the Cross
Oh, His love it poured out like the waves of an ocean
And it left me for words at a loss.
To weep and to grieve
Was all I could do
For I saw on the face of my Savior,
The grief that I wrought
When through sin I had bought
His pain; yet comes pardon and favor.

I know faith because He has shown me
What faithfulness truly has framed,
It took man from the dust
And the cursed stain of death
To a kingdom devoid of all pain.

Yea, I reign in the spirit
With my brothers and sisters
And although we are tried sore and torn,
It is Jesus who heals
All the wounds of our soul
And will guide us, oh Shepherd, to home.

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