Dust

A FACE IN THE DUST

A young cowboy working the drag,
Watched the sun sparkle in the clouds of dust,
As the dust floated and swelled,
a cross was formed and the face of Christ appeared.

The young man stopped and stepped from his horse,
Slowly kneels there on the trail,
Looks toward heaven into the loving face of Christ,
The Lord reaches out and gave His praise.

The herd had slowed, but did not mill,
The cowboy smiles, he now knows the way,
He had been lost, but now was found,
His point of no return, was now his starting place.

He felt the whips that lashed His back,
He felt the nails that held Him tight,
How could He love, and not know fear,
How could He give, and not know love.

The cowboy rose and stepped aboard,
His horse felt fresh, and danced ahead,
The herd strung out with vigor anew,
the young cowboy knew the Lord had spoke.

His life was changed, his world was new,
His life was now in the hands of God,
This story he'd tell, how he found the Lord,
The day He appeared, in the dust of the trail....

Jim Kitchens
Brady, Texas
2010