Our Lord: A Poem


He is the son of David, the heir of Jesse’s son, He is our mighty Savior, He has now for us come. Yet He will not come in the clouds, nor with Heaven’s trumpets blasting, but to a lowly stable bed, a child, to raise the living and the dead. ~Magi

The End of A Diary: A Poem


As I draw near to the end of this tale; as I read back on all the times I did try, yet fail, and I all the days I did smile, and my heart grew steady, and hale, I see how the hand of the Lord moves, I see how his wonderful plan goes, and…