This Man No More Than Thirty


I met a man yesterday,
And He asked to talk awhile.
So I sat down beside Him
Like an eager, innocent child.

You see a story is what I love to hear,
And He looked like He had a good one.
So I listened very carefully,
To the tale that He had begun.

At first I was confused,
He talked of dark and light,
He talked of Earth's creation,
Like He had held it in His sight.

I laughed and smiled as if to say,
You surely are making a joke.
This man no more thirty,
With no burdens on His yoke.

Yet in His eyes, there was a spark,
Of wisdom, truth and love.
He told of His birth in a stable,
And of baptism by a dove.

I went to brush a leaf from my lap,
And in doing so touched His hand.
At this touch I felt so peaceful,
So I turned to Him in demand.

"Who are you? Where are you from?"
I whispered in a quiet awe.
He turned, but did not answer,
And on my name He did call.

Tears fell from my eyes,
As I fell to my knees.
And I begged to hear the ending,
I cried..."Tell me please!"

He wiped a tear up off my cheek,
And said to me, "Have no fear.
I rose just like the scripture said,
And my second coming is near."

I beheld His nail-scarred hands,
And I knelt and kissed His feet.
I knew Him now for my Savior,
I felt His mercy, Oh how sweet!

At that moment the sun was rising,
I turned my head to see.
I looked back and He was gone,
Wherever could He be?

Then I heard in a small, still voice,
"My child repent of your sin,
Then you can come back with Me,
When I return again!"

By: Samantha Hannah...Dedicated to Jesus

©1998, All rights reserved

 
 
 
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Poem
©1998 Samantha Hannah, All rights reserved
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Author retains copyright of poem.