Streams Poem by Scott Goodfellow

Moses, the babe, welcomed with great joy,
Lazarus hugged by death, a sorrow,
the ebb and flow of the river.

Christ.

He wades to human weakness as a child,
the current carrying him to his Father.
The grip of the Cross: his life.

God has reversed sorrow and joy!

My grip on life, still too hard,
becomes my death,
lying limp in the basin of dry Negev.

I rise by dying!

He fills the river with his power.
Death for me, no longer a curse,
for me whom the river carries, smiling.

God fills my streams, overflowing!

But I will not cease my pleading
until that River carrying my wilting body
turns back on its course from Whom it came.