Poetry

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© Bob Barra, 12-27-07

Take the dying pain of fear
And bathe it in His love;
Make the Lord your final cheer,
If you’re borne above;

Hold His plan for you in your heart
Let it beat deep in your breast;
Like Him, its truth will ne’er part,
It’s love desiring your very best;

Let fall each and every hateful word
Like all the dried pale leaves;
If you’re owned by the Lord
It’s to His word you must cleave;

Hold this life like a toy
To embrace until it wears out;
Make it like a fleeting joy,
Then leave it with a joyful shout;

Terrorize death and its haunting pain;
Take its reins and ride its back;
It has bowed to the one great Name;
Its fear has lost its impact;

Stand on white shores beyond time,
Where death and fear cannot come;
Faith and hope will be left behind,
In their place is the Son.

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