A Moment With The Son

In this life we all strive,

For our moment, in the sun.

We take great joy

In momentarily, being number one!

I would gladly trade them all

For one moment with The Son.

I would gladly return all my days,

Of being number one!

I would return my rewards, my achievements

 My accolades, of this earth.

To stand one moment,

With The First of First.

In His presence

Where no evil can stand!

I would gladly bow my knees,

As He took my hand!

How could I stand knowing,

He paid for my sin,
 with His own Blood.

And endured my punishment,

Upon that cross of wood?

If I had but that one moment,

Would I ever be the same?

As I looked upon Him,

Who took my shame?

Him, Who endured suffering,

Beyond the measure of man.

That we should never suffer like that,

 If we took His hand.

When I returned,

Would I be as I was before?

Or would,
 just one moment with The Son,

Leave me longing for more?



The Wanderer

I am but a wanderer,

I call no place home.

The places I travel,

I journey alone.

I am a face in the crowd,

a dim reflection in the glass.

Just another long shadow,

as I walk past.

I have no roots, no ties,

nothing earthly to hold me down.

Nothing to cling to,

as I travel round and round.

Oh I've passed right bye you,

you see I look like all the rest.

Those with a home,

and those with a quest.

I still stop along the way,

and rest for a time.

But wherever I am,
 I know...

 this place isn't mine.

So now I just wander,

from place to place.

Content to walk alone,

as I finish my race.