A legion waits beside a wells long forgotten transgress,

Where angels go to bath in water touched by the Lord;

While disciples once waited a distance off sleeping in distress;

As my eyes see through the mist of time with tears of joyful reward.

This man who took on my sins was creator of freedoms press,

Author of the love that I have shared through his free gift;

Preparing a place for my earthly father in his heavenly mansions excess;

Until his earthly body which lays in a grave in another Jordan's drift,

In a quiet meadow in the State of New York will arise swift.

.

Oh the gentile joy and sorrow I feel concerning love and forgiveness graces,

Knowing that some of my kindred and friends don't understand love;

Nor acknowledge their  imperfection,lacking a contrite spirit that embraces;

A loving God that personifies love in  truth and righteousness white dove.

Still man kills man over the spoils of riches which rust and decay thereof;

Soldiers like my Dad fought to keep King David's Remnant bride;

Until concentration camps felt the supernatural hand of deliverance from above;

As Abrahams seed both physical and spiritual dropped down on a battlefield worldwide;

My earthly father raised me up to see that Cross where my Lord and Savior died.