At the end of my life what will I be?
Will there be some who look up to me?
Saying I’ve done well from what they see
Would they see me tall if I were a tree?
How long would a river like me flow?
Would there be rages and torrents to show?
And when it seemed calm would you know
Where I watered the grass others did mow?
Or if I resembled a warm gentle breeze
Would it seem that I just had taken my ease
Kindly and tender as I might please
Showing to some more power on my knees
Maybe like a snowfall covering the land
Would it show marks from my shaking hand
Or that I had simply written in the sand
Tales of wonder and God who is grand
My hope would not be what I could make
Nor my clever powers of give and take
Only that I could’ve been like a lake
Reflecting God truth and nothing fake
When it is over and my days are done
And I am dwelling on high with the Son
I hope you look back on my sorrows and fun
Thinking only that I, showed you the One.