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Poem

On my lap a book is laid
It’s black, its title gold
The binding’s worn, the edges frayed
It’s obviously old

And yet, to me this book is worth
Much more than treasures rare
And if I searched across the earth
There isn’t anywhere

A single thing that’s worth as much
As this unseemly book
I open it with reverent touch
And gladly take a look

Within the well-worn covers are
True tales of long ago
Of kings and slaves in lands so far
Who stood against the foe

I read about the King of all–
His immortality
I read of Adam’s sinful fall
And immorality

I learn His judgments and His ways
His justice, truth, and grace
I learn His glory and His praise
And how to seek His face

What great and wondrous mystery
Is wrapped within each word
Both what has been, and what shall be
Is written or inferred

I read the age-old wisdom and
The way to live my life
I read that He will hold my hand
Through any pain or strife

What miracles my King has done!
I know He’ll always win
I read that He sent down His Son
To rescue us from sin

I read about my Savior’s deeds
How He was wise and brave
I read of how He’ll fill my needs
What precious words He gave!

I hear of how He died for me
Then triumphed o’er the grave
Because of Him, from death I’m free
He came to seek and save

I read of love so passionate
Of hope and peace so free
Encouragement so infinite
My King has given me

I shall not trust in fleeting bliss
In hope or joy that dies
His timeless book of wonders is
My trust, my priceless prize

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