Things
--By Scott Wesley Brown
Things upon the mantle
Things on every shelf
Things that others gave me,
Things I gave myself
Things I’ve stored in boxes
That don’t mean much anymore
Old magazines and memories
Behind the attic door
….things….
Things on hooks and hangers,
Things on ropes and rings
Things I guard that blind me to
The pettiness of Things
Am I like the rich young ruler,
Ruled by all I own…
If Jesus came and asked me,
Could I leave them all alone?
Oh Lord, I look to Heaven beyond the veil of time
To gain eternal insight that nothing’s really mine
To only ask for daily bread
And all contentment brings
To find freedom as Your servant
In the midst of all these things.
For discarded in the junkyard,
Rusting in the rain,
Lie things that took the finest years
Of lifetimes to obtain;
And whistling through these tombstones
The hollow breezes sing…
A song of dreams surrendered to
The Tyranny of… THINGS
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