by Gideon Burton
From out of Egypt with a mighty hand
were they delivered, Israelites of old;
with miracles and wonders, signals grand,
more durable than pyramids or gold:
Jehovah's favor, paving dry the sea;
a fiery pillar, scorching Pharaoh's men;
the bloody waters, every plague decreed,
"I can deliver you; I have, and will again."
And yet how thin the memories of them
who gathered manna strewn upon the sands,
who knew the smoky mountain's thunder when
the great God made his entrance, darkly grand.
How long, oh Lord, until we will be free
from prisons of our dimming memory?
Feel free to copy, imitate, remix, or redistribute this poem as long as you give proper acknowledgment of authorship. Photo: flickr - St Stev