The Cross

A cross it was revealed to me,

I thought it was for all to see,

In a pulpit made from glass,

Silver shining there to last.

Then from this pulpit came God’s call,

Receive my blessings one and all,

Yes slow at first, then with a rush,

We all came forward with a crush.

There is a cross, it seemed to shout,

He is alive, He is about,

Then the cross, it faded out.

I realised then! Somewhat small,

God gave to me his personal call,

It was not there for all to see,

Just a sign from God to me.


by Ivan Wall
Reprinted by permission.

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