As a Child

BETHEL GILLIAM

I lose the sense of passing years, of time;
Youth is renewed,
And thoughts are preened for happier, loftier flight,
When I become a child.

When temptation bids me take offense,
Tumultuous thoughts hold sway,
And mankind seems a mass of wrong,—
Soul and sense at war,—
Bewildered I pause; and low I hear
The voice of admonition say,
Maintain His image,—else, to thine own hurt.
Then, like the prodigal, I rise and journey home,
While on the way I hear the happy song of birds.
Flowers bloom everywhere; the sky is clear;
The lesser creatures pause for greeting, awaiting
approbation.
When I arrive neighbors with strangely lighted eyes
Bring gifts, and I behold in them things I never
saw before.
Life is a blessing
When I am as a child.

Send a comment to the editors

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit

As a Child

We'd love to hear from you!

Sign up for unlimited access