Poezja

"Father," I pray as I walk along,
"give me the words that would flow like a song.
A poem of promise, of hope and of love
that would focus lost sinners on You up above....
 
The moon's shining bright from behind an oak branch,
but it's cold here tonight on my dear humble ranch.
I'd be so happy if I was a tree,
for they stand much taller, much taller than me.
 
Their tops are much closer to Heaven I know,
and they just get closer, the more that they grow.
There's no clouds in the sky - but if so, they would be
joyously singing up there with Thee.
 
The stars in the sky seem much brighter tonight.
They must be so close they reflect Heaven's light.
The gold, alabaster - the pearls and brass
I bet shine like prisms through diamond-like glass.
 
Oh, to get closer to Heaven - one peek....
could give me the thoughts that would make these words speak.
The sights would bring words and to earth I could bring
the poem of poems.  Itself, it would sing.
 
Instead, here I stand in the shivering cold,
a mindless numb man who was late getting old.
But here, down on earth, I'll perform every task,
and faithfully do everything that You ask.
 
I know that these people will not have a clue,
because this small poem cannot describe You.
So quickly this world forgets who You are,
They miss (as they're sleeping), the bright Morning Star.
 
I know that the God of Love's heart had to grieve,
when Heaven's gates opened to let Your Son leave -
to die on a cross that folks want to forget.
They just do not care - not one little bit.
 
But because of Your grace- and faith, I believe -
for You're the Great Poet and me, You don't leave.
You live deep within, so I'll faithfully start -
for the greatest of poems come deep from the heart.
 
©2009 louis gander