A Footnote

A footnote of me, is all I ask,
that history records of me;
when my life, dissolves into past;
it’s what I would like to be.

That a few might even take note;
that I had one time passed by;
seems more than a little remote;
such thought bring a tear to my eye.

A part of life’s great book;
I certainly couldn’t be;
an asterisk; when I look;
is what I’d long to see.

I wish to perform such deeds;
that I could never conceive;
but meeting other’s needs;
more than I could believe.

Thoughts in the mind carry power;
more than we’ll ever know;
capable of creating each flower;
and converting the rain to snow.

If one time I could make God sigh;
I would feel so very different;
but, if in me, He could rely;
I’d no longer be insignificant.

To even imagine seems rather odd;
It seems so unlikely to be;
if I can’t bring myself to trust God;
how can He ever trust me?