THE answer to THE question (a Constanza poem for Fishin' Inspira-shin'! Rd. 3)
Who calls the question to the floor?
From just a lad I'd known my fate
if I delayed, did naught but wait.
Who begs my heart to ope the door?
Both gentle knock and loving word
throughout my life I'd left unheard.
Who lived as man, His due forswore?
He left His throne, His life as King -
For love of me, left everything.
'Tis He, the one Whom I adore!
When wrong I did, that sin He felt...
At last I knew and, shamed, I knelt.
I shall be with Him evermore.
By grace I'm cleansed, my spirit flies
and now I wait, in death to rise.