Dead Wood
You see them lying
On creek beds
Where by watery vistas
They have been led Or resting on river sides
Carried by the ferocity
Of the moving currents’ tides
These pieces of dead wood
Would anyone have thought
They could or better yet should
End up in such a useless heap
Their limbs jangling,
Lamenting in such a lonely keepBut Oh, dear friend
This is not their end
For these shed no tears
Have no fear
Christ's smallest finger
Can transcend
Hell's darkest pit
In such a place He will not
Allow anyone to linger
Have faith
If you will just believe
and God's tranquil waters
You will be allowed to see!