Every Mustard Grain Poem by Göran Gustafsson

When the end of road is near, when time is moving fast
When everything is added up, and the last of dies is cast
From the silent garden of despair, my voice is crying out
Take this cup away from me and release my mind from doubt

I gaze into the shadows, in the corners of my soul
Where ancient gods and devils roam and acting out their role
Then a vision bright and clear; I can see His Kingdom reign
In every newborn child and in every mustard grain

When greed of gain and slothful ways cause pain and bitter strife
Trouble to my house it is, and thorns grows 'round my life
In the moment of oblivion I turn to the wind and rain
With a last and final call, for Him to ease my pain

I've been to the mountains high and down into the deepest well
I've seen the light from heaven, and its shadow cast in hell
Then I came to understand, this life is but a chain
Through every newborn child, through every mustard grain

I was taken to the desert, to the howling wilderness
To face temptation's evil joy and play a game of chess
And many pawns they died that day to save the Kingdom's reign
And many seeds of tears were sown in desert sand like rain

I stand upon the wisdom of those who've gone before
My hope is for the children, playing on the shore
The life I've lived is not in vain, it's like a livin' chain
Through every newborn child, through every mustard grain

Copyright © 2008 Göran Gustafsson. All rights reserved

This poem is inspired by and a reconceptualization of Bob Dylans song 'Every Grain Of Sand'.

The image and theme of the mustard grain is of course taken from the Holy Bible:
'The kingdom of heaven is like unto a grain of mustard seed (...) the least of all seeds (...) but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs. (KJB Matt 13: 31-32)