Among the reeds
wading into the water,
she wonders how
she came to this place
how she loves so strong
yet have it be so wrong
This baby,
what shall it be?
a laborer, slave
a servant
likely
not now
not my son
Lord, take him
and make him yours
and mine,
forever
Coming
home
taking what he thought his own
left to find what he had not known
leaving made his sire un-whole
worried about his very soul
unknowingly he went to find
what he felt he was declined
out among the world so cruel
left to fend against the fools
try as he may and struggle so
he became lost and oh so low
lost among friends, sinners pine
left alone to feed with swine
humbly, hungry on the ground
left the swine, homeward bound
as he came his father cried
my wayward son, now by my side
the fatted calf now sacrifice
bring his robe, my ring suffice
let us sing and dance and praise
my son has come, our cups be raised
the father joyful at his child
no more curious about the wild
home at last forever more
from now on lives in bible lore
one reads this story and he thinks
left the fold and in trouble sinks
one can't come back and join once more
but that is what our Savior's for
calms us when we are so weary
dries our eyes once so teary
guides us when we feel alone
lost, He gives us rest and home
Jonathan Bolick has published 5 books of poetry and has appeared in The Red River Review and The Dead Mule.
No comments:
Post a Comment