POETICAL ME

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 Sketching Sentiment
With fingers mine I trace again
With eyes closed what helped to mend
Wounds unseen yet present still
Their need to be, Life would fulfill

Eyes of color unknown to me
Focused but kind for victory
Was mine to have before my time
Mine through Him by Grace divine

Drawing hands that touched my soul
Quite a sight, He would propose
I sketch again for those to see
Who still not know and don't believe

He was to be Gods sacrifice
A man more King, who thought not twice
Whose brow wore mans crown of thorns
A act closer to be reborn

Crimson was not the robe He wore
Of red, but blood on body tore
Each stripe that made what I now sketch
His cause to be if nothing left

It was for me and you who reads
It was to be of Bread to feed
Sustain the need to be what He
Would do for all and not just me

Drawing to a close my sketch becomes
A mere drawing but of The Son
That leads the way past just today
Tommorow ours if had His way



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