A Real Man

 A real man has his happiness and his sadness

His joys and pains, he bears both smiles and tears

Somedays tears overcome the joys of his life

The face drops and sadness takes center stage

Pressing his mind, his chest, his muscles in a strange sort of way.

Then days, weeks, maybe months later.

The feeling subsides and happiness is born again

Through the pangs and presses of heaviness

A child is born, and it is a joyous child.

A real man has his pride and sense of creation

He toils, he sprains, he finishes his work

In the grand effort to create the world he dreams

Both splendor and pitfalls he wrestles with

A real man is mostly simple

He desires less for himself

And the most for those he loves

Forged out of fire, sun and the rains

Savannah heat and the cold tundras

He finds himself weather beaten and proved 

In Life, in Christ, he is both welcome and alive

In all the hours of his life lived

All the accounts and balances

Of love, pain, creation and that destroyed

A real man is learning and growing 

Expanding and relaxing upon life's ebb and flow

A real man contains oceans, mountains, and streams

Through all his elements, a real man holds himself

He is redeemed, for a real man has himself.

🙏🙏🙏