Papa peered out the misty window,
Gazing in the evening light,
It was time for the pleasant evening chat,
To savour all the days delight,
As usual, just before the rest of night.
But, now the lamp was burning ever low,
And flickered on the sill,
He should be coming soon,
The hearth is always glowing warm,
To be together, is the father's will.
Something must have happened,
He's usually here with me,
So Papa rose to check for shadows,
Falling on the path....but,
Wherever could he be.
Now Papa knew, the time had come
To wander out and call,
His child was lost for sure,
Rambling in the dark of night,
Maybe even had a fall.
With heavy heart he left his place
Calling out his name,
"My dear son, where are you,
My child I love you,
Are you crying out in pain?"
Then soft and feeble came the answer,
Frightened in it's plea,
"I heard you in the garden,
But in shame, I turned away
For You won't be pleased with me".
The Father's heart was breaking,
His beloved child had lost the trust,
Broken now their cord of love,
And every precious evening dialogue
Lay shattered in the dust.
For the child had heard a louder voice
Thinking it was soft, enticing, smooth,
Echoing with the sound of love
Maybe brighter, richer, fuller,
With all delight to soothe.
But now that taste was bitter
For the voice brought only chains,
Regret raged within the darkness,
And as the agony of sorrow fell,
He staggered in the pain.
But, deeper yet, The Father's love,
No debt of sin, could thwart His plan,
For He could heal this cruel grief
And release the grip of death
In the heart of every man.
He would have His Son die with all the guilt,
Placed upon His soul,
His death could break the power of sin
To give life,
So any child can be whole.
And now it is done, Papa sighs contentedly,
While He watches at the hearth,
All His children returning home
In pure delight,
Come skipping up the path.
Little ones sit happily upon His knee,
Or rest at His feet with loving gaze,
And all are singing songs of joy,
Grateful for The Father's love
With never ending praise.
Soft Whispers to you from
Derry's Heart Poems © 2004
Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not;
for of such is the kingdom of God.
Verily I say unto you,
Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as
a little child shall in no wise enter therein.
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used with permission
Papa's Love, Luke 18:15-17