More Like The Farmer

So I haven't written much lately, partly due to my new overnight shift and partly due to my own laziness. This morning's sermon by Pastor Glei reminded me of a poem I once wrote. So I shall share it with you.

Trust not as the hoarder

in cash nor pen

nor in the splendors of mortal men;

more like the farmer

who counts in bushels
the blessings sown
by winds and rains and hands unknown
to meet the needs of flesh and bone
grown by the grace of God alone.

Not by hands that toil or till
though in their place their purpose fill
no; but by the whim of One who sees
the purposes in bitter seeds
and the goodness in the roots of trees.
Of stones and clods that mar the earth
He sees but shadows of the coming mirth.
For all the streams flow from One source
though slow and winding be their course
and those in drought may pine away
for the blessing of some foregone day.
To those who fashion themselves kings:
Know the weight such appointment brings.
For He who raises in His time
will bring about His will through thine.
But to those who watch and pray
who take comfort in the coming day
the waters sweet which ebb and flow
will appear like springs from deep below
and quench the parched and green the land
bringing joy to the righteous man.

For sorrows in their time may yeild
a deeper faith and larders filled
by One whose stength eclipses thine
and knows the winding roads of time.
For luck and chance sculpt not the land
only the greatness of His plan.