Poetry - The Broken Chair - by Randy Nelsen

 The Broken Chair

by Randy Nelsen

I Had a Broken Chair

I Sat in it all Day

It sat On my Front Porch and Watched 

The Seasons Pass away

It was very Cold Outside

Sitting in my Broken Chair

But No matter How Cold It Got

You could Always Find Me there

Then one day I heard a noise

A Deep and Booming Sound

It was not from my chair

I heard It all Around

A Voice that Spoke to me 

Like a Thousand Singing Brooks

It Pierced my Wooden Chair 

 My breath was suddenly Took

My Son, My Son, My Son

It Said

Why are you Sitting there?

Why are you still sitting

In A Broken Chair

Stand up My Son and Know

You have no need to Fear

It is My blood that Freed you

From your Broken Chair