Saturday, April 5, 2014

Not Mine

By Lisa Marie Harmon

I've received a gift from God, divine
A life of measured minutes,
An ordained part in His design,
A race for me to finish.

This gift, I know, I must return
And consider it not mine,
If, from the Spirit, I’m to learn
As a graft upon the vine.

Learn what it means to turn a cheek,
To be the light and salt,
To feel His strength when I am weak,
To love and not find fault.

I want to show my neighbors
Where to quench their thirst.
I want to die, like He did,
To be the last, yet first.

I could fill my life with pleasures,
Seek just my own advance,
But I’d miss the perfect treasures
Of our mystical romance.

I only have so many days
And so very much to learn.
I’ll put aside my selfish ways
And for His wisdom, yearn.

For when my days are done
And I stand before my King,
I pray, in me, he sees the Son,
And joy, to Him, I bring.

National Poetry Writing Month entry Day 5.
Prompt: Not Mine

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