in the fog he strides and sings
glory glory to my king!
he lifts his head and smells the smoke
whispering to himself of what he knows
promises that were long ago written
words of life that for him were given
and though too oft he tends to stutter
and wastes his thoughts on another
there are times like now when he stands tall
and remembers seeing the rainbow at the falls
so please forgive him for not always being plain of speech
for it brings him perhaps perverse delight to weave poetry
that subtly whispers truth that aches with love
and gently hints at the truths of him who sits above
but now he laughs and cries as he remembers his story
his heart burns within him as he ponders that farther glory
and he knows that though he was lost and broken true
and that he had no idea what if anything he could do
there was one who reached out his hand
and pleaded him to come into the farther land
all he had to do was fall and kneel and pray
and in desperate humble brokenness ask and say
Lord I bring nothing I am but ash and rust
save me save me oh save me or I am lost!
and so he looks to the cross and says i believe
help me God to come now to thee
for on my own i would surely be done
but now i rest my faith in you God’s own Son!
and that is all and that is enough he cries
for he knows that for his soul the Son did die!
so now he’s washed and now he’s clean
and now he stands forever among the redeemed
he rises up through the waters of the brook
and to the far shore he now dares to look
the pilgrim way continues on and ever on
but now he walks with the light of God
and though his writings still sometimes stumble
and though his poetry tends to kind of mumble
he leaves this here for a witness
to the God whom he confesses
Father, Son and Spirit Holy
eternity now whispers
and I follow