Showing posts with label The poet wrote. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The poet wrote. Show all posts

Monday 15 June 2015

The poet wrote

The poet wrote
Parking Lots

Parking lots are boring,
That’s what some people think,
My kids think mall lots,
Are most boring of all.

They see row on row,
Of cars and trucks and stuff,
Acres of Asphalt
Boring things like that.

Me
I think they’re alive!
A plethora of colour!
A sculpture in rubber, tin, and glass.

A
Symphony of noise,
Accompanying a commoners ballet,
On a stage of compact stone and oil.

A
Kaleideioscope.
An ever changing montage,
Of people, and things and stuff.

Mission field,
Ripe for the harvest.

And that’s how I see parking lots.
Jesus said,
“My food,” said Jesus, “is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work.  
Do you not say, ‘Four months more and then the harvest’? I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest.  
Even now the reaper draws his wages, even now he harvests the crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together.  
Thus the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true.  
I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor.” 
                                     John4:34-38
The harvest fields are all around us be they in parking lots, our neighbourhood or in far flung lands.
Are you doing what you can to bring in the lost?
Jesus said,
“Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,  
and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” 
                            Matthew 28:19,20.
Think about it