Keep
Don't you think it's strange, this thing we're called to do,
To leave everything behind, so we can enter something new?
This embracing skin we're in, will someday turn to dust,
In the meantime we decide, what gods will earn our trust.
There's one for popularity, there's even one for fame ...
For those who want the world to know the radiance of their name.
There's one for power in places high or even stations low,
All things seem to come to those to whom this favor flows.
There's a god for those who choose to chase the glow of gold,
But never enough pockets, to hide all that they hold.
Some believe that fashion's whims will fool the gullible,
Who think that mere updating, will change what's not quite done.
And some think that doing right, builds up their sacred score,
As one by one deeds turn to stars, so their crown will have more.
And that in God's economy, perfection's the best measure,
That the goal is to become a self-made, graceless treasure.
And some think that doing right, builds up their sacred score,
As one by one deeds turn to stars, so their crown will have more.
And that in God's economy, perfection's the best measure,
That the goal is to become a self-made, graceless treasure.
Despite the lure of all these things, there's nothing that remains
To bequeath to those who wait, for their turn at the grave,
Save the love which only comes, through great sacrifice,
And unseen, bears all the cost, for the might-haves of our lives.
Anne Selleck
Copyright 2013
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