If Jesus Came to My House: A Poem
The wind whispers low, a gentle refrain, As twilight descends, washing away the day's strain. A quiet descends, a hush in the air, A feeling of peace, beyond all compare.
Then a knock at the door, soft, a gentle surprise, My heart leaps a beat, a tear starts to rise. Could it be? A hope, both fragile and bold, A story unfolding, centuries old.
He stands on the porch, in the fading light's gleam, His eyes full of kindness, a familiar dream. No earthly grandeur, no crown or bright throne, Just simple compassion, a love deeply known.
What would I offer, this humble abode?
Not silver or gold, nor riches untold, But a heart overflowing, a story to unfold. The laughter and tears, the struggles and grace, The moments of weakness, the triumphs I embrace.
What would He ask of me, standing there near?
Not piety's show, or a prayer free from fear, But empathy's touch, for the lost and the weak, A hand to the needy, a word soft to speak.
Would He judge my failings, my flaws and my sin?
Or see past the surface, the goodness within? I know in His gaze, acceptance would lie, A chance for redemption, beneath His kind eye.
Would He stay for a moment, or linger awhile?
His presence a blessing, His love a sweet smile. I'd offer Him comfort, a place to repose, And listen intently, as wisdom bestows.
The night deepens now, the vision takes flight, But the warmth of His presence, burns ever so bright. A reminder that love, is a constant embrace, And hope's gentle whisper, in time and in space.
This poem explores the feeling of awe and the introspective questions that arise from imagining a visit from Jesus. It focuses on the emotional response rather than theological debate, appealing to a broader audience. The use of rhetorical questions invites the reader to contemplate their own response to the scenario.
