'blessed is the man...
he shall be like a tree
planted by the rivers of water,
that brings forth its fruit in its season,
whose leaf also shall not wither;
and whatever he does shall prosper.'
he wraps up in a warm blanket of good memories
if ever cold winds would threaten, wafting a freeze
in quiet halls, his best days encapsulate God's light
like a fire that's glowing all through a long hard night ...
he gathers children of a hurried world that never knew
'bout troubles and trials his heart aches goes through
tears fall, when lost and broken do not comprehend
he offered comfort, willing to hold onto sorrow's hand
sad to conceive how the ways of the world turned out
lost dreams of heart, then gives back only more doubt
so he listened real close to them when some had cried
then he lifted up prayers, gave courage so life again tried
should he question his purpose ... could he somehow do more?
he, like a tree while his roots cling to both flowing or stilled shore
servant hood comes in all shapes and sizes of life and of dreams
not losing sight where the river of life keeps right on flowing
..........................................in clear heart poetry streams...