Poem

Your Shelf – Ruth Johnson

Your Shelf

Dec 2, 2019 1:09 AM
Ruth Johnson

Did you take Me in?
Did you feed Me?
You have been one, perhaps,
To bleed Me?
Take for yourself what I Hand you,
Then put Me back on your shelf?
If, indeed, you think of Me at all.
Do you need Me?
Do you break My back
With the final straw?
Or do you turn to Me and call?
Do you know Who I AM?
Have you even a clue?
No! No one does,
But I Know everything about you.
You look in the mirror,
You have no fear,
For you are so very young,
You do not know
When to give up the show
You keep age on the run,
You think.
In a little while, maybe too soon,
You just may become
Wrack and ruin.
The air is unhealthy,
The water is poison,
The fish are dead in them,
Rotting away.
The leaves are wilting
On the vine,
The crops are crushed,
The barley and hay,
The flocks are sickly,
The herds are dwindling,
The valleys in flames,
The houses, kindling.
Are you going to take Me
Off of your shelf
And set Me on your mantle?
Let Me share your holiday season?
Now, what is the reason?
Should I take you in?
It is almost time to go.
Oh! You did not know?
I did tell you, over and over,
Perhaps you were not listening,
I have to go Home to My Father
While the snow is glistening.
However, this time I do not
Go Home Alone,
I have a Bride to bring Home!
And We have many
Brothers and sisters,
And We have a Holiday planned!
Our Father is going to let Us
Strike up the Band!
We will sing and dance
Accompanied by angels,
And you still have a chance
To come Home with Me.
But I must Say, I AM sick of
Your shelf,
Of being treated like
Some gift giving elf.
I have Better Things to Do.
My Bride is waiting,
I must not tarry,
A New Heaven and Earth
Will be born when We Marry.
Will you be there?
You had better hurry!

Your Saviour,
Jesus Christ

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