The sun comes up; the sun goes down.

The wind remains unseen, its origin never found.

We are born dying and spend a lifetime learning to live.

And when it’s all over, it’s not what we spent, but what of we did give.

Too many fights are fought in the journey from cradle to grave.

Our days are sown in confusion born now over roads less paved.

So whence cometh our help and from which is our faith derived?

Could it be mortal man with his assurance self bolstered by pride?

Nay, it is neither but in truth it is upon a hill with redemptions crimson stain.

It is upon this hill that He was scourged and in which by Him man is saved.

It is upon this hill Pharisees do attest, as unto which converts to truth will confess.

Yet many who claim to see will fall short and cry out in shame come judgment day.

So what if the sun comes up on this particular day

And you find have never felt the spirit in the wind.

What if in your dying that you realize along the way

that this is really just the beginning  and not the end?

What If?????

J. Allen Wilson © FOUR-- TWO THOUSAND & SEVEN

TYBEE ISLAND, GEORGIA