Poem

    So, I'm not a poet. I've never enjoyed poetry that much, but I decided to give it a try the other night, partly from reading other poetry, partly from having had some comment discussion with Hannah Leake (from over at The King's Daughter) . Here's the finished result, pretty rough since I only put about 10 minutes into it, but here it is!

The future lies
In mist;
I cannot see
Ahead.

Dark swirls above
like dusk,
My path, it hides
Unknown.

My Guide beckons
Ahead.
Where He points
Is dark.

But thoughts appear
to me:
Is the prize worth
The pain?

In all these things
Is pain,
And this path looks
too rough.

But then new thoughts
Appear.
Is any too much
to bare

For my Jesus?
He is
my Guide, my Life,
my God.

How can I claim
Abandon
While to my life
I cling?

To follow Him
Through all,
Through suffering, pain,
To light.

Is He worth it?
I ask.
My soul cries out
at night,

Is He worth it?
To die!
Is He worth it?
My life!

Yes, my saved heart
cries out.
He is worth it,
worth it!

So my life is
now His.
No more am I
My own,

But His. His child,
His love,
His by grace, His
Purchase;

And I will go
With Him
Through life or death:
a martyr.