A little stone from His garden

A LITTLE STONE FROM HIS GARDEN

I took a walk in The Garden
In which my Jesus prayed,
Where blood dripped from His every pore
And innocent nerves were frayed.

I felt His presence 'round me
Felt His love within my heart.
I kneel beside a lonely tree,
Pick up a stone 'fore I depart.

So many years ago that was,
That stone now worn so smooth,
But when I need it the very most
That stone, my nerves, does soothe.

I carry it with me everyday
To feel my Lord so near
And when I rub it in my hand
My Savior, I do hear.

He tells me that He loves me,
That for my sin He died,
And from His glorious presence
I no longer have to hide.

And when I touch it's smoothness
A sense of peace I feel,
For the little stone from His Garden
Makes everything so real.

And when doubt seems to flicker
Or when I need Him more
I put my hand in my pocket
And rub that stone... Yes, His for sure.

Just a tiny little symbol
One of forgiveness and great pardon
A small symbol of the peace He gives
Just a little stone from His Garden.

Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
MsCaroline

Love your verses MsCaroline!

I felt as though I was in the garden with you and had that stone in my pocket. It brought a little tear to my eye. Beautiful work!

i recall the sting of that first pebble
after a while i didn't feel them anymore
my legs grew heavy
till i could not take another step

one day
all those pebbles became
a massive boulder
i could no longer shoulder on my own

tell me more of this stone of your's
for by hearing some pebbles have loosed
and fallen to the ground
tell me of the man in the garden
where it was found
that my arms may be freed
and my knees might bend
tell me more Dear Sister
tell me more Dear friend

loved your poem!