Maranatha (Come Quickly Lord Jesus) Poem by James Tipp

Maranatha (Come Quickly Lord Jesus)



The steel grey dawn,
Misted moon,
Honking geese,
Tell the winter scene.
Trees denuded of life
Bare other fruit.
The bobbing, squawking starlings
Sit like giant pears
Waiting, waiting
The light grows,
Grey becomes milk white.
Commanded by something unseen
They fly together.
The day has begun
Time speeds by
An so we wait.
Maranatha.

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