The Snow Drift


The Snow Drift

There is a large snow drift,

In front of the large tree,

The large tree in front of the house.

There are no tracks in sight,

Except those of a wee little mouse.

My mind wonders back,

Back about sixty years,

When I was twelve,

And without many fears.

There were no snow plows,

Like we have today,

And we would walk,

and wade deep snow,

and play along the way.

Sometimes we would get stuck,

And lose our rubber boots,

And we would laugh,

And go get our skates,

Our hockey sticks and pucks.

Our spiritual life,

Is much the same,

And we get bogged down,

In the worlds snow drifts,

And we get discouraged,

And we get tired,

Tired as we try to honor,

Honor His Holy name.

Then I remember,

Remember His promise,

A promise, we can claim;

He will never leave us,

Or forsake us

And He is always the same.

[  by Winston Staples ]

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