I have been unable to ascertain who the author of this poem is, but it has been quoted by Don Carson on several occasions (Is he the author?).
Why do we choose what can last but an hour
Before we must leave it behind?
Why do possessions exert brutal power
To render us harsh and unkind?
Why do mere things have the lure of a flower
Whose scent makes us selfish and blind?
The cisterns run dry, and sour is our breath;
We dwell in the valley of death.
Why is betrayal attractive to us
Who often are hurt and betrayed?
Why barter faithful devotion for lust,
Integrity cast far away?
Who do our dreams, then our deeds, beggar trust,
Our guilt far too heavy to pay?
The cisterns run dry, and sour is our breath;
We dwell in the valley of death.
Why do we stubbornly act out a role,
Convincing the world that we've won?
Why for mere winning will we sell our soul,
In order to be number one?
Why sear our conscience so we're in control -
Despairing of what we've become?
The cisterns run dry, and sour is our breath;
We dwell in the valley of death.
O Jesus -
Why do you promise to quench all our thirst,
When we have despised all your ways?
Why do you rescue the damned and the cursed,
By dying our death in our place?
Why do you transform our hearts till they burst
With vibrant expressions of praise?
The well flows with life - and we're satisfied -
The fountain that flows from your side.
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