On this past Sunday morning a dear, old friend died. Irene Kohr was ninety-eight years old and she was tired. Her mind was still sharp, but her body no longer gave sustenance to that indomitable spirit that she always had. It seems that death holds the ultimate sway, yet as Christians we have a hope that goes beyond the grave. As I thought about Irene, and I thought of the chill winter that is fast on its way, I sat down and wrote this little poem.
For some reason, the beautiful old Irish song, entitled "The Fields of Athenry" was also on my mind. Consequently, I wrote the lyrics of the poem to fit that music. Somehow, it all seemed to fit. This is for you, Irene. I hope you like it.
The Abundant Life
Oh Death! Where is Thy Sting?
As the long, hot summer fades into shorter, cooler days,
God sets the forest all ablaze.
Some days are bright and clear, while others shed a tear,
As death begins its reign both far and near.
Chorus: But God knows that autumn's not the end,
Though winter's icy blasts our spirits spend.
For far beneath the snow, a shoot begins to grow
And the flowers will bloom beneath the warm sun's glow..
When crops are laid away, and the cold is here to stay,
God sends the snow on fields to lay.
The woods are silent still, as the wind blows o'er the hill,
Yet living water flows within the rill.
Repeat Chorus:
As daylight lingers on, the ground begins to warm.
God sends a small, green shoot up from the corm.
The birds begin to sing, and soon the forests ring,
For Resurrection broke death's awful sting.
Yes, His Resurrection broke death's awful sting.
