The voice came gently; a whisper in the wind
A miracle-working teacher called out to me
I wonder if He knew how much I had sinned
So I told him, “Lord, please go away from me”
This man would not budge, insisting that I come
His life He would give in order to redeem mine
In spite of the filth He knew I was coming from
Every day thereafter at same table did we dine
His words were my bread; His life became mine
When His body was broken and given up as food
His precious blood shed, poured out like fine wine
It made no sense back then, but it was all for good
Now I call out to other men, like once He did to me
Pointing to the cross where He suffered for love
Now empty, a joyful reminder that I am truly free
Just because I believed Him that came from above
Toyin Taiwo, Aug 2020
Chronicles of a Journeyman 