The morning dew now glistens grass;
But know its glory soon will pass.
Would seem its brilliance has been won,
Not mere reflection from the sun.
As soon we’ll see, we are the same;
Our prideful boasts are just so lame.
We feel our glory must be won,
Not mere reflection from the son.
We sparkle, glisten, shine like dew.
We strain to be the proud, the few.
Whatever good we think we’ve done
Is mere reflection from the son.
We must see past reflection’s shine
To see his glory, most divine.
Achievements grand; all, some or one
Are mere reflections from the son.
May selfish honor fade to dim,
Replaced by glory due to Him.
For then we stand with God as one,
As bright reflections of his son.
This poem won 1st place for the June 2017 poetry contest