Sitting at the Table a poem I wrote in Nov 2010

http://voices.yahoo.com/sitting-table-7302810.html?cat=10



Sitting at the Table



Sitting at the table, we feast.
Feasting on many blessings, never seeing the rising yeast'"



Listening to the music, listening to the songs'"
Believing it won't be long.



Yet, so slowly from the table we rise to go and tell.
Rising so slowly, can we not see the fields, they are white, so many falling to the depths of a fiery Hell.



We say we agree, we say we believe.
But why is it we linger at the table, when it is yet not our time to leave?



The Harvest it is great, but surely the labors are few, perhaps those around the table have lost the vision, lost the passion.
How long will we linger and forget, those who know not, of His saving grace, will we never rise in time to share with the lost the greatest compassion?



The fruit it is ripening, it is falling in the fields, if Christ you know, then surely you must go.
Grab your basket, hold high your banner, lift up your sword, stand steady, go forth for many still go not know --