"Grace"

Except we know in matters sweet,
That we are living less and less,
We know not from the ones we meet,
The things we from our mouths confess.

For we are frail and weak of heart,
And know not how to bear the loss,
Of ecstasy, of fantasy,
We know not how to bear our cross.

There is a time when we must know,
That life like tides must ebb and flow,
And when the sweetness fades away,
That grace will come again one day.

He lived, he died, he rose again,
Yet while He lived he suffered pain.
For grace was how He lived each day,
And to His Father He would pray,
That He would take that cup from Him,
Yet did not entertain the whim
That death was final, or life was sure,
And to His death He remained pure.

So how to calculate the gain,
Of loss that seems to cause such pain?
We bear the cross, we lose the day,
But to our Father we must pray,
That grace will follow us again,
For all the days we feel that pain.

Greg Annett,

24th September 2006