Daniel Larson Poet Rhyme

On Morning Frost

He looked down from his mountain
     and then upwards to the sky;
Thought he saw his life a’ passing
     in just one blink of an eye.
Listened for the mourners,
     heard a solitary sigh;
Just before the darkness comes
     he’ll bow his head to cry.

The footprints he had followed
     now lie underneath the dust,
And the chains that came to bind him
     show not a single speck of rust.
The brothers who had led him
     had laughed at the words he cussed;
There are still a few around him
     but not one he can trust.

It was on the road to Babylon
     his life had hung by a thread;
Was chasing the thieves and Pharisees
     whom always stayed one step ahead.
All the thoughts he kept in private
     are now resting with the dead;
The words about his future
     are wrapped up and left unsaid.

He peers across the valley,
     sees light on the morning frost
And crowds that come a’ gathering
     near the shadow of a cross.
Watches children playing freely
     ‘round a boulder draped in moss;
Then somewhere deep inside himself
     he sees all that has been lost.

I wake up to my reflection
     on a broken windowpane;
The battles are still raging,
     yet there’s nothing more to gain.
The book of life’s flung open
     but I cannot find my name;
I’ve been climbing up his mountain,
     looking for someone to blame.

In an awkward, silent moment
     comes a whisper on the breeze;
It’s telling of a salvation
     and the lost soul which it frees.
Says it lifts the broken spirit
     and mends the heart that bleeds;
Through all this I reach the top
     though I’m crawling on my knees.

Now I look across the valley
     and I see light on the morning frost . . .

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