Poetry

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© Bob Barra, 7-19-07

Borne of death, to die again,
For death is separation;
I am separated from my sin,
For He is my salvation;
I can choose to separate
Myself from things of flesh;
For God’s heart was His bait,
As I was His fish;

If not so born, I would face
Another kind of separation;
For then I would lack His grace;
Subject to His damnation;
From His presence, I’d be afar,
To an infinite degree;
Out of reach, beyond His star;
His face I wouldn’t see;

But He had pity on me;
And He called me out by name;
He brought me from the sinful sea,
To enjoy His fame;
Thus the joy gave birth to words,
Some of which you’re reading;
And if my prayer has been heard,
It’s these words you’re heeding;

For this joy, borne of His love,
Is without selfish pride;
I desire you borne above;
In Jesus to abide;
If this way comes about,
Without carnal predation,
We will both praise and shout
In heaven, without separation.

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