The broken Gate

It swings free with each push of the wind.

Oh this broken gate found on trails that never end.

Its surface is scared; weathered and worn by time.

It strikes so many similes to this heart of mine.

The winds of change pull hard on its rusty hinge.

The storms of life rail in angst as it buckles and bends.

The broken gate to this heart swings wide open for the world to see.

Yet a thief came one day and robbed precious joy;

leaving only dangling gripping vines of grief.

The wind still blows.

Yet the broken gate now remains fastened and closed.

Battles and storms of life still rage.

But by grace there remains this day.

Life is most precious and not counted in years…but minutes.

Each breath a blessing; each I love you renewed joy.

Though in heart robbed of joy for things that were.

We must remain steadfast in love and prayer.

For greater is this than our days of despair.

J. Allen Wilson 6/2008

1 I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. 2 My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth. 3 He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber. 4 Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. 5 The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand. 6 The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. 7 The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. 8 The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore

Psalms 121: 1-8