The Hope Of Glory

I gaze upon the garden of my life Each stone: a moment Each stalk: a period Each petal: an experience The last leaf accounted for Written in the tablet of my soul Such beauty to gaze upon So great the cost It grows It changes He adds to it He improves it Each season represented More colors as my days pass So many precious secrets Moments seemingly lost Yet indelibly etched in me Woven into the fabric of my being And so He forms in me The image of Himself Christ in me The hope of Glory Stephen Pursell, 11/98