A story heard we
Called ‘prodigal son’.
So wasteful was he.
Call him, ‘spoilt one’.
Impatient, cruel,
Unthinking, selfish
His wealth to possess.
Dad’s death did he wish.
Lavish he is not,
In matters that count.
With leaches for friends
He drains his account.
In deep despair’s pit
Only sight’s upward.
Seeing own folly,
Trudges on homeward.
Welcome. Oh! Welcome
Celebration grand!
Fit for royalty
Befitting the Dad.
While staying home son
Sure, all things are his.
With no one to share
To selfishness sinks.
The blessings You give
To me is all good.
Share with wasteful one?
That’s not what I would.
Wish brother be dead
Dad’s wealth be all mine.
Is that how it works?
Share, all’s never mine.
The Father of love
With love invited.
Some come, some do not
E’en Love is repulsed!
Thy Chesed, Dear Lord,
Let me today share.
So, like You I’ll be
Thy glory to wear.
Yeanoku Sept. 15, 2022
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