Clouds and Shrouds

By Ephraim Figueroa

 

 

And like most everyone

I, too, enjoy the sun;

But on a quiet day

With nothing in the way,

I like to watch the clouds,

And how they seem to shroud

The sky and all its blue;

They lend to it a hue,

And make it look so fair—

They come from everywhere.

But since they always move,

In ways that seem so smooth,

Be sure to hold your gaze,

Or like a horse that strays

They’ll suddenly depart

And make a brand new start.

That’s right, they’re here and gone,

They’re always moving on,

So easily without force

In their appointed course—

Until they dissipate.

For when their hour is late

They’ll fade into the night

Then disappear from sight;

Which also is our plight.

For like the early mist

Which by the sun is kissed,

We too shall pass away

And leave without delay.

For life, which once began

So joyously, then ran

Through all its fruitful years,

Shall come to many tears.

For when the time is right

We shall depart from sight;

By death shall we be called,

By worms shall be dissolved

Within a narrow grave,

Or hid within a cave.

It’s there the body rests

Until the final test;

Until the trumpet sounds

With Angels all around.

That’s when it, too, shall rise,

Will wake with great surprise,

And joining its own mate

Will be judged at the Gate;

Where sentence will be passed

By Christ the Lord at last.

Then to the left shall go

All sinners unto woe.

But they shall enter in

Who faithfully have been

Disciples of the Word;

Who kept what they had heard

And lived it unto death,

Until their final breath;

Who made for Him a place

Within their hearts by grace;

Who by the Spirit’s might

Prevailed in that good fight.

Hence, with the Hosts on high

To God shall they draw nigh,

And they shall reap rewards

From Christ Whom they adored.

And they shall ever be

In peace eternally!

 

Source: The Faithful Steward, Issue 26, 2007, p. 12.