The Grim Reaper

by David P. Stern

All flesh is grass
    and all its goodness like the flower of the field
The grass withers, the flower wilts
    and the word of our God stands forever
Indeed, the people are grass.
Isaiah, 40:6-8


    It's Sunday afternoon. Behind my mower
    I do my best to cut the tall grass lower
    So that new shoots which to the light aspire
    Can see the sun, take strength and reach up higher
    And not grow small and stunted in the shade
    Of some much older well-established blade.

    That is the way the world exists. In truth
    Death is a harsh fate for old age, and yet,
                it's kind to youth.
    Please Lord, let grass remain forever green
    In that spot of Thy lawn where I have been.


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Author and Curator:   Dr. David P. Stern
     Mail to Dr.Stern:   david("at" symbol) .

Last updated 15 May 2002