Poetry

by Lowell M. Durham, Jr.


In the Garden Gethsemane

In the Garden Gethsemane,
Our Savior bled from every pore,
And in his prayer remembered me.
Then flung wide open death’s dark door
And lo, I am with you alway,
To follow thee, to follow thee.
My soul to heaven you will lift
And guide my heart so gently to
Remember that atoning gift.
Wash thou my heart, my soul is new.
And lo, you are with me alway,
To shelter me, to shelter me.
My Savior, thou hast blessed us here.
And with your noble sacrifice,
Have beaten death and conquered fear.
A gracious gift, my heart suffice.
And lo, I am with you alway,
I follow thee, I follow thee.

Yet As I Live

the day is silent
I catch no drop of reassuring rains
from soundless temporal skies
yet as I live
He also Lives
the earth may be barren
treeless
empty in silence
but as long as I live
the capacity to love
and the potential to become
like Him
I can do my best
to grow a little greenness
to cultivate a few faint notes
that may perhaps become
a song of humble praises
unto Him