Jesus (a poem by me, written 12-23-24)

Jesus

His mother was Mary, His Father my God,

Upon Him I lean as my staff and my rod.

He's my Savior, my Father, my Brother, and Friend,

He's with me forever, even up to the end.

Once I was little and shaking and scared,

My Jesus He came and told me He cared. 

This kind of love comes from only one place, 

Oh, the joy I will feel, when we meet face to face.