The Father’s Fervent Grace

My hair all matted, my clothes all stained,

I reeked of mud and spoiled grime;

Plagued with hunger that always remained,

Forced to work in the fields of the livestock 

My people would consider a crime.

My inheritance robbed, my friends all gone,

I recalled the servants of my father’s house.

They were always well fed with a place to lay their head.

Upon the sweet thought, I headed home

to be rid of the louse.

My lips chapped, my feet sore,

I was still far off upon the sudden warm embrace.

Tear-struck eyes overflowed, my father’s love still at his core.

Wrapped in the finest robes and well-worn sandals,

Reminded forevermore of His fervent grace.

– Kenzie Tenpas writes from Manitou Springs, CO.