The Passenger

By Chrystal Webb Plude

He is just a passenger.

In a fast-moving car

Full of selfish, reckless people

Who doesn’t know who they are.

They race against a crumbling world,

Desperate to be seen.

Their cries for our attention

Are thoughtless and obscene.

They’ll do anything it takes.

To make you notice them.

And those that do not listen,

These callous ones condemn.

They’re speeding down the highway,

Not knowing what’s in store.

With no regard to life or limb,

His warnings they ignore.

They pay no heed to His directions,

Even though He knows the way.

They act as though He isn’t there,

Refusing to obey.

And when they reach the highways end

And the ground disappears.

While they’re falling toward destruction,

They ask Him to ease their fears.

The passenger dries His eyes,

And with sadness in His voice

He tells them what now lies ahead,

Was entirely their choice.

I offered you directions.

To keep you from this fate

I didn’t want to lose you.

But now it’s too late.

You said someday I’ll listen.

When I’m through having fun.

But if you die before that day

Your deeds can’t be undone.

I wish I could have saved you.

But My voice you never heard.

You could have found salvation.

Had you listened to My Word.

But you thought you knew everything,

And so, ignored my call.

Now what you knew has brought you here

For eternity to fall.