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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





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