Come To His Table
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This poem was POTD on February 2, 2024. Thank you PoetrySoup.
Humankind shouldn't despise its own,
let love be reaped after it's sown.
Many people's shelves sparse from
high inflation,
come to His table, all generations.
Who sits at the honored seat?
Radiant Christ, the harvest is complete.
His angels summoned the needy,
some of them shunned by the greedy.
They've brought their famished children,
no more hunger pangs of billions.
So much to thank Him for,
bread from golden wheat for the poor.
Juice from abundant grapes,
flowing down from a heavenly
airspace.
Rice cakes and vegetables, so
filling,
His earthly workers heady joy,
so willing,
to sow again neath a mellow sun,
for the grateful, every one.
It doesn't matter how humble
your station,
come to His table, all generations. ~
Copyright © Regina Elliott | Year Posted 2024
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