My Grandfather's Faith

 
I never heard him from the pulpit, never saw him preach
and yet his depth of faith always shone through
he kept his Promise Box, and Bible there within his reach;
his hymn book long ago ceased looking new. 

He’d given up a life of preaching for the untamed land,
but when his baritone rang through the air,
and when he played that old piano with those farmer’s hands
it was more peaceful there than anywhere. 




august 2003