The Widow of Nain: A Poem

Luke 7:11-17

An only son, a grieving mother,
A reflection and foreshadowing,
Jesus moved to tears,
Your grieving will stop here.

The sleep of death,
Cannot hold the son, or the Son,
Young man, arise,
Open up your eyes.

The mother’s heart soars,
From depths of pain untold,
Behold your mother,
My beloved, my brother.

The crowd seized with fear,
How can this be?
Countless hearts are stirred,
Restoring life with just a word.

This teacher is a prophet,
With powers heard of old,
Is He Elisha or Elijah,
Or could He be the Messiah!?

An only Son, a grieving mother,
The scene will play again,
This prophet is the Lord,
Destroying death and sin.

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God bless you – Jim Hahn

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