While winds whisper
and storm cloud's scheme
with thunder's roar
and lightning's scream,
I sit alone.
My teeth I clench.
I think about
this old park bench.
It sets alone
here under tree,
a massive one
protecting me.
It's branches wide.
It's limbs so firm.
It's trunk is huge.
That I confirm.
But time has come
and death is near.
I pray the Lord
still holds me dear.
I don't deserve
His precious grace,
but pray for this:
to see His face.
But rain now falls
and falls quite free,
while I sit dry
here under tree.
Like God, this tree
protects me now.
I am not soaked.
I do avow.
The rain is like
the sin of man,
but God protects.
We know He can.
And He forgives
both me and you.
He keeps us dry
and cleanses too.
The wind has hushed.
Clouds quickly fade,
with thunder too,
for Christ has paid.
I sit so dry
protected here,
without a care,
without a fear.
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