Why do the people swiftly pass?
Do they not know they trample grass?
Pray tell me, is life ever fair
and really, does creation care?
Beneath the hidden sun at noon,
beneath the silent crescent moon,
beneath the dark and cloudy sky,
beneath it all, do we know why?
Beneath the laws and rampant crimes,
beneath the troubles of these times,
beneath the blizzards of all sins,
beneath the toil, God's work begins.
As with the sparrow in God's hand,
the truth of love will always stand.
And blessed with our Creator's touch,
our torment will not matter much.
Beneath the snow, beneath the sod,
beneath all things- we must trust God.
For God raised up His faithful One -
so don't forget His only Son.
Our prayers see answers all around
as snow starts melting from the ground.
In spring when ice is melted off,
the faithful stand to silence scoff.
One answer proves (though very small),
that God can save right through it all.
So should they stop and pause to pass
they'll find this single blade of grass.
For God created, God has made -
and faithful I, as single blade.
Forgive, I shall, their rushing on -
and bounce back up when trod upon.
2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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