PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The sun comes up, goes down again

Another beginning, another end

Life under the sun has always been

Nothing more than chasing the wind



The streams they flow into the seas

The wind it blows among the trees

But from where to where I cannot say

Yet chasing it, I run away



I run to this world with all her stuff

And still I know it's not enough

With all my things, I search again

When will I stop chasing the wind



Wise is the man who seeks Jesus face

Then sets his journey at God's own pace

As for the wind, seek not where it goes

But find Him who makes it blow.