by Gerry Legister

Created on: July 30, 2009   Last Updated: August 09, 2009

A shall be as a hiding place from the wind
A mysterious covert from the tempest;
As rivers of water in a dry place,
As the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.

The promise of victory generous in his soul
Mysterious man comes in all shapes and size
Good and bad, the rash, the vile and the churl,
Nature has the mystery rising up with ease.

And those that spoil the end of treachery,
Are more inclined to scatter their voices,
And fill the air in the uncovered sky,
Where explorers embark on expeditions.

To find man lower than the guardian angels,
Illusively wearing a glory crown in honor,
Ruling the deeds of kingdoms throughout ages,
Tasting the sweetness of powerful splendor.

Mysterious man, at a fleeting glance,
Rides into victory, as a vapor for a short time,
To do exploits, then vanished in an instance,
As incomplete stranger before sojourning.

Who knows what mystery lies in the good of a man?
For his days are as grass in the flowers of the field,
He flourishes until the wind passes over it, and he is gone;
And his ashes flee with the passing shadow.

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