In Sand

What was the message, He etched in the sand
Did He write of His birth, or God's Holy plan.
Perhaps of a Cain, or the brother he slew;
Or that He could boast of His family, the Jew.
Did He write of the lilies, or the fig tree, so bare,
Of a Samson now shorn of the locks of his hair.
I wonder, do you, what was written that day
It was not recorded, but soon washed away.

What was the message, He left in the sand?
Did He write of the law, to measure each man.
Perhaps of a Haaman and gallows to tall;
Or those who declared they had no sin, at all.
Did He write of the woman, or stones held in hand
Of a Judas whose shekels were paid on demand;
I wonder, do you, what was written that day
This was recorded, they all walked away.

What was the text, now buried in sand?
Did He write only once a message to man.
Perhaps He was writing the sin of each heart.
Or waiting for the sinless, to now make a start;
Did He write of her life, it was not discreet,
She waited and trembled as she lay at His feet
I no longer wonder, what was written that day---
No one, she said, - - and she walked away.

-Elizabeth Wallace Morehead-


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