Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Blue Is The River.

Blue is the river that I’m carried down
Rushing toward a black lake of slime
There’ll be no foothold; no places to grasp
Will somebody save me, that’s all that I ask?

I raise up my arms as the slime closes in
It seeps into my breathing; my eyes growing dim
Too much time spent pondering and looking for hope
I looked for a future but I still couldn’t cope.

As I gasped my last breath I was lifted up high
By a strong pair of arms though no one was nigh
I felt that black slime glide slowly away
My eyesight was clearer and I saw a new day.

The blue river was gone and a sparkling stream
Danced beside me as if in a dream
The sunlight twinkled through shimmering leaves
I was resting in a glade of beautiful trees.

It was then that I saw Him; a Man brown and lean
He was sitting beside me and that beautiful stream
He took both my hands and looked into my eyes
Saying, “You needed a Saviour and that’s no surprise.”

“Your sins are forgiven My Peace in your heart
Take my joy straight from Heaven; it’s not a fine art
It’s a habit to put on at the start of each day
A flickering smile that won’t run away.”

“Don’t fret and don’t worry what the future may hold
I am your Saviour, be brave and be bold
A day at a time is a big enough view
I am the Potter; I’ll do wonders with you.”

Wyn Barratt
Jan 2012


Marja Meijers said...

Sometimes you write like the ancient psalmists Wyn, one moment sad, the next praising God.

Wyn Barratt said...

The exciting thing, Marja, is that I never know where I am going with any of my poetry. I just am hit by an idea or a picture and the spirit grabs my pen.