Before I Meet My Maker

Dreams of a lifetime
become wishes unfulfilled.
The harvest I have gathered
is grain that’s never milled.

Desperate grow the longings,
and time will not stand still.
There’ll be a time of mourning
for all my never wills.

I feel a great rush pushing
for each completed goal.
For what if my time ends
before completion of my soul?

Written words I need to read
and those I need to give;
a hand to hold, a heart to touch
or soul that's never lived.

A hungry mouth I could feed;
nakedness I could cover,
or a widow needing comfort
for the loss of her only lover.

I am just a puff of smoke;
a breath that whisks away.
Time is shorter than I think,
Perhaps it is today.

I pray that I’ll be finished
polished and complete,
before I meet my Maker
and bow before his feet.