Poetry

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© Bob Barra, 4-27-06

My body aches for release from another;
A quagmire dimension is my state;
When will You come for me, my Soul Brother,
And be my eternal Predicate?

All behind me is a mental trash heap;
Before me, a Father lode of love;
Touch me, to break me, of my carnal sleep;
I watch for You, looking up above;

The day retires, the dark has come;
With the dawn, it’s darker still;
Reminded, still, we’re under his thumb,
Cursed with a darkened will;

Then behold, the Dawn approaches,
While in the dark of night;
With cleaving sky, goodness encroaches,
All for our final flight;

This, my Hope, with consummation,
Consumes me with such joy!
I see the end of my salvation;
Promise of promises, He will employ.



1 Thessalonians 4:13-17

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