The Sum Of All His Days Poem by Royston Allen

Lord, is this what life is really all about?
We get to You all wrinkled and so worn out
Is life what we have become on our last day?
All weakened and plagued by senile decay

My child, this is not so, I'm pleased to tell you
That I don't see your loved one the way you do
His life before me in panorama displays
And I see him as the sum of all his days

From his final sigh right back to his first breath
All is seen by me when he passed through death
I see the babe giving his parents delight
And the small boy growing up so fair and bright

The young lad entering his turbulent teens
Coming to terms with his inherited genes
All through his adulthood I see him going
Forming new friendships and life overflowing

You see the aging process making him old
But before me I see his whole life unfold
Each second and each moment of the years
I can see his exuberant joys and tears

Then on that final day as in death he lay
I see one who has walked with me all the way
The sum of all his days is what I can see
In your loved one who is standing before Me

And now with Me as his new life he begins
One that is not marred by the effect of sins
Sicknesses and sorrows shall no longer be
For he is now living in heaven with Me