I think this was written sometime around my birthday, last week. It appears not to have been posted anywhere, so here it is for the appreciation of those who love the art of poetry.
With love in the heart, we’re like the Lord:
His patience working powerfully in us,
His faith is ours, in the fullness of God,
His tender touch our gentle tool—
This Man of men, bringer of mercy.
Not everywhere is light eclipsed:
A few believe that God exists,
Fewer still do all his will,
But human sight is short and dull,
The moon of ignorance is total—
Nearly—Christians must be ever vocal
With news of glory—darkness reigns;
To expel it, only the voice of saints.
You cannot be saved—No merit
Of man redeems from sin, no good
Of self nor any you think to inherit—
Obey the Lord for cleansing blood.
If in this life I touch but one or two,
And see in heaven a soul that I had saved,
Let thanks be God’s that I, in faith, was true,
That for another the kingdom’s path was paved.