Tents

God's people lived in tents on desert sands so long ago
As moving through the trackless wilds and one day hoped to see
The Promised Land and resting place from all their travelling woe
And find a permanent abode where they were meant to be.

The tents, with goat and badger skins arrayed were nondescript to view
And God would journey with them and lead by cloud and fire
To travel day or in the night and see the journey through
Their garments were remaining fresh, their feet would never tire.

We have here no abiding city, our journey is the same
Our 'tents' must not be permanent, where we can settle down
As though the tents were made of bricks, we say this to our shame
For we have made the desert seem, as though it is a town.

We soon will leave our tents behind and cease our wandering way
The Lamb will light God's City and the beauty of that Land
Will fill all hearts within His Rest and chase our tears away
For we will have His Presence and the Promises He planned.

Book by Paul Purday

If you like this poem, you may enjoy reading more work by this artist:

buy