Poetry

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I just come to give. I do not come to take.
My giving’s where I live, leave you in a joyful wake.
If I were to have, though only through your choice,
I’d be more than glad. My heart would find its voice.

But I can still be blessed to give with no returns.
In that, I can rest with joy that hotly burns.
My lesson has been learned to hate the cold of self.
Now my heart yearns just to bless you well.

I understand if you won’t listen. You’ve known of men as takers.
Maybe calling themselves “Christian”, you found that they were fakers.
I regret how we have been, and now it is our loss.
To take from you is our sin. To lose you is the cost.

So if I could, I’d sacrifice, to die and not live.
Yet that’s been done by the Life, so I choose to give.
Give you a little hope when you’re feeling down.
Act like a silly dope to take away a frown.
Say a simple prayer for your need in time.
Speak some joy into the air with a little rhyme.
I’ll give you the space you need when I’ve been too much.
Plant an encouraging seed with a brotherly hug.
I just want to dance with you, or just send a smile.
See what you’re up to and talk for a small while.
With a yellow rose in hand, I can lend an ear.
There’s a joy in being your friend, to tell you I am here.

I only wish to tell of how I am inspired.
I see you give so very well, being Jesus-wired.

© 7-14-09

For Virginia

1 Cor. 13:4-8a

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