Wonder

I look at this poem and do not believe I had a hand in creating it some years ago.
Actually, it was not even yet a year past, but it seems to me a fortune of years.

Today we are so pressed on all sides, it does me especially well to remember the powers that spring from the Holy and its sublime awesome which encompasses us.

When lilies of the field are pressed
between the good book's pages,
in sweet Lord Jesus' raiment dressed,
their seed endure for ages!

refrain  
God's seed endures forever, blown on the wind of grace;  
it will always bloom again and grow to His embrace.



The wheat upon the open plain,
stretch forth their heads to pray;
costume themselves in diamond rain,
and their winnow fan array.  

refrain
God's seed endures forever, blown on the wind of grace;  
it will always bloom again and grow to His embrace.



Currents of the His saving waters,
sweep in the ebb and flow;
they bring a saving grace to me,
and to the flowers to grow.  

refrain
God's seed endures forever, blown on the wind of grace;
it will always bloom again and grow to His embrace.



See me at the harvest,
see me at the bee;
lay me up in in bundled straw,
yearning to be free!

And when the harvest's over,
and no more stalks to scythe,
yet buy some time with lemonade,
and we shall be alive!


--

note
I like the way it moves from the sublime to the homey refreshment of lemonade. We go up, and we come down.