Poetry

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I lay awake in the night
And he is with me
The starlight filters through the clouds
Slips down the peppertree branch
To sit on my window sill.

The wind rustles moodily outside
Blowing dry leaves down the street.
The city moans in the background
Like a dying man on a Hollywood set.
Yet soon it will revive
Ready for the next scene.

In this strange world of contrasts
He is with me.
I feel the wonderful certainty of his presence.
The world sleeps on
And God only knows why he tarries.
Some souls yet awake
With an unslaked thirst?

We have a purpose,
To bear a fountain of living water
To a thirsty world.
Was there ever such a calling?
Such a need?
We'd better get busy!

I smell the damp
Of the new day's dew--
Dawn is not far away
And He is near.

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