How blest is the man who refuses to walk
in the counsel of evil to guide him,
nor chooses to stand with the sinners beside him,
nor sits with the scoffers who mock.
He treasures the law of Jehovah -- he dreams
and reflects, night and day -- he's enchanted.
Deep-rooted, he'll be like a tree that is planted
by waters of crystal-clear streams.
In season, producing a bounty of fruit
when they harvest its yield by the river;
well-nourished, he'll flourish -- his leaves never wither,
succeeding at every pursuit.
Not so for the wicked! As chaff they are blown,
as the dust on the floor men are scraping;
when judged, the ungodly will find no escaping,
nor sinners will stand with God's own.
The Lord knows the way of the righteous and humble;
the way of the wicked will perish and crumble.
This poem was a finalist in the September 2020 poetry contest