The Tyranny of Things

Things upon the mantle

Things upon the shelf

Things that others gave me

Things I gave myself

Things I've stored in boxes

That don't mean much anymore

Old magazines and memories

Behind the attic door.

Things on hooks and hangers

Things on ropes and rings

Things I guard that blind me to 

The prettiness of things

Am I like the rich young ruler

Ruled by all I own

If Jesus came and asked me

Could I leave them all alone?

Oh Lord, I look to heaven

Beyond the veil of time

To gain eternal insight  

That nothings really mine

And to only ask for daily bread

and all contentment brings

To find freedom as Your servant

In the midst of all these thing.

For discarded in the junk- yards

Rusting in the rain 

Lie things that took the final years

Of lifetimes to obtain

And whistling through the tombstones

The hollow breeze sings

The song of dreams surrendered to

The tyranny of things.

~Scott Wesley Brown~