Thy Will Be Done

 

 

While walking down the street one eve,
A drawn old man tugged at my sleeve.
His face was wrinkled, thin and white
As the pale moon that shines at night.

I did not see from whence he came,
Nor did I hear him call my name.
He merely stood so frail and meek;
He made no sound, nor did he speak.

I tried to smile and pass him by,
But I was held there by his eye.
His eye had put me in a trance
As though it were a gypsy's dance.

He quickly led me to the park.
I saw a bench there in the dark.
A blazing star fell from the sky
And cast its light into his eye.

I heard him say (his voice so low
I knew he meant just me to know),
"The night is long-the moon is dim-
One who sees me shall soon see Him."

His voice was calm-his touch was light
And yet, my heart was filled with fright.
I quickly rose and tried to leave,
But still he held me by my sleeve.

He said, "I am His sign to you.
Take heed, for when the sky turns blue
The sun will rise, then fade away
And you will see Him upon this day."

"At last you'll go to sleep once more.
Then, I will come knock at your door.
You'll rise and climb the stairs with me
Where you will stay through eternity."

"Angels will sing and play the harp,
For from this world you shall depart."
With these last words he dropped my arm
And then I saw he meant no harm.

I knew that now I could depart.
His message burned within my heart!
The moon sank down as I walked home.
No more had I an urge to roam.

This mortal's mind is filled with doubt.
What was his message all about?
Could this old man have spoke the truth?
Will I be called while in my youth?

The night is long-the moon is dim.
What did he mean, "You will see Him?"
I heard his voice so soft and low
And yet, I did not see him go.

Soon I will know for dawn is near
And now I feel no pangs of fear.
I'll ask not why if death should come,
But breathe a prayer, "Thy will be done."

 

 

                                                       

used by permission
Copyright Joyce Williams
All Rights Reserved 

 
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