The Savior (A Longing)
In a forest by a brook
Sat an old man on a stump,
Sat an old man in a thought,
Sat an old man with a cane.
The cane was from those trees
Sheltering so well the man
As he thought of those days
Passing by.
This same forest had provided
Welcome shelter for the boy
In his now forgotten troubles
Or remembered as a sweet
Time of innocence
Which created wisdom.
The trees now sat
Unchanging
Seemingly
The brook dancing lightly by
As it always had before.
Its laughing seemed to echo
The boy's childhood
Now gone
And even the rare camp
Preciously guarded from friends.
And as the wind rustled leaves
It recollected the girl
The first girl to grace this land
With sweet romantic love.
A gust blew through,
And with it sounds of four
Toddling steps into Father's open arms
The Father wishing,
praying
For Child's wisdom to multiply
Beyond,
Far beyond
The small steps his parents could provide.
And soon more siblings played
In God's loving, gentle arms of
Rough barkand soft leaves and flowing water.
And just as quickly as they came,
So now they disappeared
From the picnics by the brook.
Occasionally new childrens voices
Brightened the air, already so
Sweet with memories.
And those too fell away
One
By one.
The bitter mingled as
The news came one day that
The first Child of the man
Couldn't be reached but by
Heaven's own
Slow-approaching door.
Years passed and the wood lay
Quiet and lonesome
Perfect and pristine
Changing seasons
Unknown and unseen
Awoken only by fresh tears for
The woman, gone home to her Son and her Heavenly Father.
Breath
Now fills the clearing
The man's lungs and those
Of beautiful nature.
These final breaths,
Murmered in the peaceful
Trees and Brook.
Light streams
Down upon the brool and the bushes.
Through the trees
Around the man
The light grows
Brighter
As the world around darkens.
The man now sees he is not alone.
And rising to greet
Like a long-awaited Friend
The Man sleeps in
The Arms of
The Savior.
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