Wheat and Chaff
The harvest comes, the time draws near,
The winnowing wind is sharp and clear.
The wheat stands firm, its grain refined,
The chaff is scattered, left behind.
The farmer’s hand, both just and wise,
Divides the true from empty lies.
The threshing floor, a sacred place,
Reveals the fruits of saving grace.
The wheat is gathered, pure and whole,
A treasure stored in Heaven’s bowl.
Its worth was proven through the test,
By faith it enters eternal rest.
But chaff, though plenty, holds no weight,
It meets the fire, its final fate.
For hollow hearts and fleeting ways
Are lost beneath the judgment’s gaze.
O Lord, I pray, refine my soul,
Remove the chaff, and make me whole.
Let faith and love in me increase,
Until I rest in Your great peace.
This poem reflects biblical themes from Matthew 3:12 and Psalm 1:4, which use wheat and chaff to symbolize the righteous and the wicked.