Saturday, November 6, 2010


Around the world
the people of God kneel.

They bend like ripe wheat
to the wind of the spirit.

From east to west
the cry rises to heaven:
Christ has died, Christ is risen,
Christ will come again.

Bend down your ear and listen--
Lord, how much longer?
The fields slumber under the sun
awaiting the trumpet blast.

1 comment:

  1. God has certainly given you a beautiful way with words. I loved this poem !