by Judith C Evans

Created on: October 02, 2009

His yoke is easy, his burden is light.

Cast off the snare; be made whole in his sight.

Abide with the nameless encamped 'neath the stars.

Praise with the prophets who dream behind bars.

"Apart from the vine, we wither and die,"

The rivers gasp and the mountains cry.

Go back to God's word: why did Jesus bleed?

They say Satan is cunning; I say, "indeed,"

For we point and condemn till we're cold in the grave,

Forgetting the truth that is this:

Christ forgave.

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