Poetry

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I could see a stream flowing,
Up from underneath the door;
Wondered where it was going,
So enticing as to lure.

Through the temple it flowed,
As it ran past the altar;
Appearing to be hallowed,
Continued as not to falter.

It flowed east through the yard,
Then outward through the gate;
Over rocks not looking marred,
Not curving rather going straight.

The further the stream had to pass,
The deeper that it seem to be;
And a smooth surface just as glass,
Then finally flowed out to sea.

A man standing along the shore,
I knew that it was Christ my Lord;
He said that I would live evermore,
For the living water that I adored.

Richard Newton Sherrer

Copyright 2007 Richard Newton Sherrer

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