Jesus

What do you say?

My brother took my hands
And said, “I want you to see
A wide open land, a horizon,
And many beautiful trees.
And Jesus is standing,
Waiting, on a low sloping hill.”
I could see it in my mind,
A sweet and breathless thrill.
“He only has eyes for you,”
He said. Jesus’ eyes are shining,
And there was a gentle breeze
Effortlessly combining
With the sensation of awe
That trilled in my chest.
The way Jesus looked at me,
It had to be the best.
“He holds something in his hand.
He is turning it to and fro.
Do you know what it is?”
Yes, I certainly did know.
“It’s a ring,” I said,
My eyes tightly closed.
“And what does that mean?” he asked.
I think Jesus just proposed.
“He wants me to be his bride.”
“And what do you say?”
That is when I cried.
My heart burned
With an unspeakable pain.
I could fee the tightly gripping hand;
I could feel the binding chain.
“I want to,” I said.
“I want to, but I can’t say yes.”
“That’s okay,” my brother said.
“He doesn’t love you any less.”
Jesus reached out his hand,
And I looked at with shame.
“It’s okay, my love,” he said.
“I still see you the same.
I will keep wooing you,
Every single day.
I will never leave you nor forsake you.
So what do you say?”