Bones and Dust

When our bones return to the dust,
then at Time’s end will He judge us.

No coin or earthly power persuades,
man must account for wayward ways.

Naked there standing with no veil,
nothing hid as we fall to kneel.

The Judge, righteous He will be,
as He dooms our eternity.

What we owned will testify,
to deeds under His wondrous sky.

Will they be deemed worthy there,
with love of God and neighbor’s care?

Or will they be selfish and few,
filled with darkness, an earthly view.

To have pleased Him you would need,
gazed upward, with heavenly seeds.

For that fruit would of yielded,
life eternal, uncorrupted.

But earthly riches will soon bring,
weeping and a gnashing of teeth.

There is still hope my dear Reader,
turn and follow your Creator.

He provides a Straight Narrow Way,
by Grace he doth bring saving Faith.

He gave His life for you and me,
from Death He arose conquering.

O’ just turn and believe,
Christ, He is King of Kings.

Death and the Woodcutter, Alphonse Legros, French, 1837 - 1911

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