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Flowers at His Feet

by Julie Carro

The earth is Jesus' footstool...and we're the flowers at His feet,
A lovely field of gorgeous color, growing wild, but oh so sweet!
With every flower rich in beauty, bringing pleasure to His heart,
Each nurtured with His tenderness...a precious work of art!

He strolls amongst the garden, shedding early morning light,
To warm our souls with glory, as we blossom in His sight.
The golden daffodil, the daisies, the hyacinth, the rose...
In the loving care of Jesus, His graceful garden grows.

Some are delicate and fragile, in need of special care,
A hedge of His protection, so He covers them with prayer.
Others are just thirsty, seeking truth and righteousness,
So He looses rain from heaven, in streams of blessedness.

Some are bright and lively, ever swaying in the wind,
Dancing to the melody, that His Holy Spirit sends...
While others seem so shy, in quiet reverence they are bowed,
Humbly praying at His feet, spilling teardrops on the ground.

And then there are a certain few, that only open for the Son,
With hidden beauty deep inside, a work that's just begun...
Afraid to face the world, with its harshness and its sin,
Until He whispers in their spirit..."It's ok, I am Your Friend."

A Garden of His love...Yes, we're the flowers at His feet!
A fragrance to His soul, that is marvelous and sweet.
Every flower rich in beauty, bringing pleasure to His heart,
Each nurtured with His tenderness...a precious work of art!

Song of Solomon 6:2-3
My Beloved is gone into His garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies. I am my Beloved's and my Beloved is mine: He feedeth among the lilies.

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This poem was a finalist in the October 2009 poetry contest

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Click Here to contact Julie Carro to request permission to use this poem.