To every time, there is a season,
To every purpose, there is a reason.
We toil for life's bounty, acquiring wealth until our death;
It is nothing and yet for some, nothing is everything!
To be kind is something, valued placed by the recipient,
Especially to the suffering, who are momentarily refreshed.
What thing possesses greater value than that,
To renew the laboring masses...in God speed?
Can we defeat the evil awaiting our summons each morning.
Yes, but our base must be grounded, our faith in Him, founded;
Yielding to Him our right of way; willing and obedient each day,
Being a human conduit for His Authority, shown down here through love!
The End
Go on to next poem by Mark Edgemon:
Secret of Faith
Return to: The Works of Mark Edgemon
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