Here is a beautiful poem that I was given the other day and I wanted to share. Author unknown.
An Acorn fell from the tree,
Landed with a plop onto the ground and settled there,
Prepared to grow
A squirrel, storing food for winter,
Grabbing the acorn, with his paws,
Hastily scampered away to his nest.
A tree that almost was.
Snowflakes falling to the ground,
Gathering together upon the mountain
A blanket of white, prepared for Spring.
Parched earth, dry for lack of rain,
Awaits the rapidly melting snow,
And drinks heartily, consuming all.
A stream that almost was.
A pencil, paper with lines,
With notes partially filling the page;
Words written down, prepared for singing,
A tune, a psalm of praise
Floating inside an old saint's head;
Work calls to him, and time flies-
A hymn that almost was.
New life growing within;
Heart, limbs, and identity developing,
Legs and arms moving, prepared for living.
Happy parents, anticipating the future,
Their hearts and home making ready,
And God calls Home the little soul-
A child who almost was.
Someday, in the realms of Glory I shall celebrate-
I shall sit under the tree that almost was;
Beside the stream that almost was;
Sing the hymn that almost was
And hold in my arms the child who almost was.
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