General Poetry posted June 24, 2019


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a poem

Faith

by Bill Schott



What can I do to get what I need?
Air is not filling; rocks do not bleed.
Where is the weapon? How hard the deed?

Faith -- just the size of a mustard seed,
musters the manna for you to feed;
sends armor and power to succeed.

Your mighty God makes the forests from weeds,
armies from insects, a navy from reeds;
mountains are moving when your Lord leads.

Such faith brought us to a man who would bleed;
God as a person, whom no one would heed;
Who carried our sins, so now we are freed.

 

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Matthew 17:20
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