Poetry

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Death is one step behind me,
as in days before.
It is a truth I can see.
I cannot ignore.

Yet my breath is in God’s keep.
It is He who sustains me.
I am safe, even in sleep.
My state is ever carefree.

Covered in blood is my lot,
the blood is not mine.
Accursed I was, now I’m not.
I’m in Grace sublime.

The death of His life
was the knife against sin.
I was drawn to His life
to die with Him.

I rose from the dead,
feeding on my Jesus,
my living Bread.
Through Him, God will meet us.

Death’s now the servant
of Jesus the Lord,
to take me where He went,
to my Adored.

Now this life, through death,
is what defines me.
His life, my Breath,
is now what I see.

See the Life through death,
through His, then your own.
Make Him your saving Breath
and make His Life be known.

We will die in coming days.
The ratio is one for one.
So let the Lord be your praise,
and then kiss the Son.

© 2-27-09

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