Poetry

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Our Lord in all generations,
Having no beginning and no end;
As we are making preparations,
Of our Savior for you to send.

The Lord has always been our home,
With a foundation of solid rock;
A place to return after we roam,
Regardless on just how far we walk.

It is by His command when we die,
Ashes to ashes and then to dust;
A fraction of time that just goes by,
That to Him is like a small wind gust.

Our lives are merely like a dream,
A movie shown across our eyes;
And though as unreal as it may seem,
Because of all the how and the whys.

But in due time it will be revealed,
Not in this life but rather the next;
When God opens the book that is sealed,
Showing why this life was so perplexed.


Richard Newton Sherrer

Copyright 2007 Richard Newton Sherrer

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