The Heart Beat
Robert Johnson

The practiced, perfect percussion of a heartbeat
Is the one thing in our life that keeps us all going,
From the day to day things of our troublesome lives
To the harder things to which we are also striving.

That regular, robust, percussion filled heart beat
Keeps us all well on the straight and the narrow;
Helping us to sense the emotional aspects we feel
In a life that is usually filled with all forms of sorrow.

But that punctual heart beat can also miss a beat,
When something so subtly shocking comes on by;
Those times in life when all we can do is question
The truest and real nature of why we even try.

But that self same heart beat can surprise us,
In ways that sometimes seem all too unspeakable;
When what we believe about those we know
Is challenged and we act on the unthinkable.

That same heart, it beats to a regular, robust, rhythm
Of a life that is led that needs to be filled with love.
But sometimes, we find that this simply cannot be
As we walk through the pain of the push and shove.

So as we walk along this pathway of this life,
Let us think more about those people who we meet.
Let us be kinder, more generous to all that we see
And more caring for all those people we greet

For this emotive life is blessed, if we would let it be so.
For life is a blessing that we have the privilege to share.
So why not be more thoughtful of others who share
This wonderful experience for which we all care.

A light shines through the perpetual glass
As the faithful come to sing and pray;
They take their seats and they then begin
On that eventful, Godly, sunny day.

The preacher speaks and intones
That they should look for balance,
In a world that seems to be without
All forms of challenge or chance.

So many panes of glass appear to me
As my gaze turns away from the preacher
And my gaze lights on the window pane
So alone, on its own, a very special feature.

The pane sits in the middle of fifty panes
All letting in the glory of the sunny days,
But this one is plain glass whereas the rest
Are stippled and ribbed, letting in God’s rays.

So many panes are all the same, all alike
In beauty, in simplicity, in gracefulness;
But there is one that is slightly different
In its silent confessional; ready to confess.

And I sit still and think of all the people there.
As I stare around the room, I see them all;
Sitting there, waiting to be blessed by the Lord
Contemplating the nature of their fall.

I am that solitary, single pane of glass,
Alone and bereft of the truth that I know
Is the message that the preacher will bring
That it is I who needs to think of where I go.

For my journey is not the path so easily trod.
Mine is the road less travelled by most
And as I stare at that single pane of clear glass,
I am reminded of the ultimate cost.

I think of the times when I have not shown the love.
I think of the times when I have failed the Lord.
But I know that in my weakest hour of need
I have held on to the one true and holy word.

I have chosen to walk a different path to many,
A journey with the Lord that only few can take.
Will you join me on that journey this day?
It will be the best decision you ever make!

Robert Johnson
March 2019