Poetry

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© Bob Barra, 6-29-06

The hope
Promise made; prods;
I am made ready, for
I see my end; I‘m convicted;
Made pure;

In me,
A stirring comes;
His word provokes in me:
“Invite many to come to Him;
Submit;”

I find
A joy within,
For I have done His will;
Not to gain favor, for It’s mine,
As gift;

My hope:
Many will find
His grace for them; mercy;
And many will come after me;
Glory!

I see
What I shall be,
For He is before me;
My King and High Priest, so holy;
Joyful!

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