Four Days Late Poem by David Oladipupo Olorunshola

In haste the emissaries ran
To prevent a consequence so dire
Alas, no remedy, no help in site
With eyes filled with torrent of water
Which flows freely and unabated
And a heart that is deeply hurt
From the agony of waiting
All hope seems to be lost forever
Where are you, oh Master
Why are you delaying?
Like a tree cut down from trunk
Dead and without remedies
Four days seem too long and late
To effect a dead and rotten issue
Yet, at the saint of water
Light and life surges forth
Only in the record of heaven
It is just on time for the miraculous
Don't dare you be discouraged
Even though you don't understand
The situation may be stale and stinking
Never will it spin out of control
The master planner is still at work
To bring out the best of a bad situation
You need only to dare believe Him
Do that which is needful
Roll away that rock of doubt
And make way a plain before Him
Let no obstacles of reasons be set
Trying a mental persuasion
Is a disservice against heavens
Assignment to a heart of hope