When We Blot Out The Sun Poem by Chris Taylor

I felt led to write a poem about consequences; particularly, the consequence of not taking care of what was given to us. This piece is specifically about the stewardship of the earth the Lord has blessed us with. We pollute what was freely handed us, we raze the fields and lay bare the rich soil and rip out the timber from an area that gives us 20 percent of the world’s oxygen. I am no scientist, and definitely not a tree-hugger; but I can recognize when our appetites, instead of our thankfulness and commonsense, dictate our actions. God expects us to do what is right and be good stewards of the gifts he has imparted to his children. In 1 Peter 4: 10 it says: “As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace”. Even though my poem today speaks about the consequences of taking poor care of our planet, don’t forget God gives each of us, personally, gifts and talents as well. Every one of us has a talent. Yes, every one. My prayer this morning is that you use it for the glory of God; with the greatest respect to the giver of the talent in the first place. Let us all experience the joy of God’s freely given gifts and not the stagnant, unfruitful way of a cold, unrepentant heart. Enjoy the poem; and as usual, feel free to leave a comment,
The Great Plains Poet



When We Blot Out The Sun

a poem by Chris



I pray our children will forgive us
When we blot out the sun
Their laughter will fade and drift away
Like chasing a feather which floats just out of reach
Gone will be the days of example and trust

The orchid’s stem will wither and fall
When we blot out the sun
No longer giving us the gift of its scent
Its sepal will diminish, discolor and bleach
Losing the radiance that God once gave

The ocean’s minute plankton will succumb to famine
When we blot out the sun
The sea’s great cycle will refuse to turn
Is now like a grindstone that has flattened
And the old bounty is reduced to crumbs falling from the table

Blue eyes will stain grey and brown eyes will cloud
When we blot out the sun
Brilliance begins to cease and blindness will take hold
We will not know our lover’s face
And family will become as strangers to us

Hope will be driven underground
When we blot out the sun
Cries will go out and fall on deaf ears
The needy will not be attended to
And not one blade of grass will erupt from its soil