It came to me one night, a dream
An idea, a thought, a better way
Is this all there is, this life I have
To wake and live another day
Exist just like a cloud, or shrub
To eat and sleep, work and play
Go here and there, do this, do that
Wait for Friday, bills to pay
The hairs are counted on our heads
Our bones will see decay
But the spirit will live on
Past when we’re old and grey
A plan, a purpose, his promises pure
I trust his word and pray
I know that my Redeemer lives
The truth, the life, the way
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem