HUMBLED

HUMBLED

Humbled by the icy stillness of the frozen lake,
Humbled by the rapids of the river's fearless wake.
Humbled by the hand of youth, so steady and so sure,
Humbled by the disease for which there is no cure.

Humbled by the mercy of a God who hears my pleas,
Humbled by the shelter of the towering redwood trees.
Humbled by the power of the righteous hurricane,
Humbled by disaster, and the splitting, piercing pain.
Humbled by the faces of triumph and despair,
Humbled by a lover and his tender hands that care.

In the maddening deafness, in the darkened rooms,
Where sit unfathomable mysteries, the flowers placed on tombs.
In the brilliant light that sweeps across the landscape,
The honor of the coffin with the flag so softly draped.
Humbled by the soldier and his final sacrifice,
Humbled for his widow, who herself has paid a price.
Humbled for the children lost to mines and gunfire,
Humbled by our unsafe schools, the black crow on the fence wire.

Humbled by the timeless miracle of human birth,
Humbled by the graciousness that pours forth from the earth,
Humbled by the breath of life, and when that breath it blows no more,
Humbled by the hand of God, beckoning on that distant shore.

Humbled by the beauty of the body and the mind,
The holy stream of consciousness defying space and time.
Rejoicing in each footprint left upon the sand,
How each precious day of life unique and oh so grand,
Fills us with the glory of the stream and waterfall,
We cross ourselves and marvel at the wonder of it all.

In the startling blindness of the kindnesses of friends,
We find the lonely saving grace upon which life depends.
In the myriad halls of kings, the humble cave of peasants,
Lie untold riches of the soul, we kneel before their mighty presence.
Humbled by the good that's found,
Humbled by the shaking ground,
The volcanoes and the mudslides.
Humbled by the whim of nature,
The swift and raging tides.

Humbled by the tragic, humbled by the nonsense,
Humbled by the pauper, emboldened by the prince.
Humbled by the chance for joy,
When alas the world becomes your toy.
Humbled by the shifting sands,
The glory of these maiden lands.

Humbled by the billowing sails, by the triumphs and travails.
Humbled that I'm still alive, despite the falls, despite it all,
Humbled that I'll be around when at last the savior calls.
Humbled by your love for me, your all too human grace,
Humbled by the beauty of your spirit and your face.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2013
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED