YOU ARE THE SEEKER
 
By Nolan Moon

Before I was to leave my home, my Mama sat me down one day.
She spoke in tones of alter, and this is what she had to say." Son you've turned a man now, and soon will be on your way.
For now, these are a bunch of old words, an old woman has to say".
"You are the seeker,
And he is the reaper.
Follow Him through golden rod, and fields of yellow hay.
I know what you're seeing,
And know you're worth believing.
So trail alone through countrysides, to kiss the morning dew.

And if you need to lean on, someone you can cry on.

Then lay your head upon His lap, and dry your gentle tears.

And then our hands together,

We'll fight the stormy weather. Clapping to the Lord's Day,

When we'll all be going home."

Now I am a bit older, and my hairs have turned to gray.

And I still don't know the meaning; of those words she spoke that day. I went back to see her, and look into her tired eyes. She took me by the hands, when she began to rise.

"You are the seeker,

And He is the reaper.

Follow him through golden rod, and field soft yellow hay.

I know what you're seeing,

And know you're worth believing.

So trail alone through countrysides, to kiss the morning dew.

And if you need to lean on, someone you can cry on.

Then lay your head upon His lap, and dry your gentle tears.

And then our hands together,

We'll fight the stormy weather. Calpping to the Lord's day,"'

When we'll all be going home".

As I left the churchyard, tears rolling down my face.

I looked up in the clouds. Above, to see my Mama's face. And there she sat a singing, near the throne of glory. Then the meaning hit me, of what Mama had to say;