Category Archives: poetry

From Ascension to Descent

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To the pinnacle of the mountains with me;

From the darkness of the valley,

For the Glory of God to see.

The brilliance of light divided,

God’s excellent will, provided.

Darkness well kept within its place.

Remote from the Holy One’s blazing face.

There I perceive and begin my descent;

To speak to the people, to whom I am sent.

I saw the blazing fire there,

The one reserved for callused care.

Shall I refuse to speak the warning?

Demise will come on that Great Morning!

But also from the peak I saw,

The Glorious love of the Living God!

Now I descend in awe.

By His Grace

From dawn to Dawn

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Sleep is but an irritation,

When eternity stand so close.

It’s when I move away from Him

That I love my sleep the most.

Then let me be tired and discomposed.

Let Him solely be my strength.

Then, I shall rise and do my work,

Till eternity shows its length.

From the dawn to The Dawn;

The place my Lord adored!

Let my back to perceive the darkness,

Let my soul on Him be moored!

I’ve only “now” to do His work,

None “other” will time allow;

The place to set my feeble hands,

Holding tightly to His plow.

Come reap what lovely things are Yours,

Your Holy hand has sown.

Make straight the furrow

And dig it deep.

Bring Glory to Your Throne.

By His Grace

To “Do”?

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The day belongs to you, my God, Christ Jesus.  Then as is right to do, I present myself before you.

What shall I harvest? 
What seeds shall I plant? 
Shall I water,
Shall I weed,
Shall I plow,
Or shall I rant?

Shall I give strength to the weak?
Shall I humble the proud?
Shall I glorify the Living God out loud;

In word,
In deed,
In work,
In thought,
With all my soul attentive?

Or has my mind turned to works of man; that glory is mine on the day of presenting? 

Is not my place a special gift, as according to your wisdom you do?

To provoke,
To provide,
To prosper,
To hide,
All my ways within your Righteous blood.

This day belongs to you my God, Christ Jesus.  Do as you will with your servant, I stand as ready as you cause me to be.

By His Grace

THE DAWN

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A shaft of salmon colored light,

Makes the difference between the day and night.

Bracketed on the left by the end of a certain cloud.

The Shining slice of Crescent moon

Moves gently between the layers.

The path of faithful traverse,

Is drawn in the mind of a man.

And with the dawn,

Dawns understanding.

The faithful promise of the Faithful One,

Provides another day.

And I am witness to this explosion of opportunity.

What was, is registered in the mind of the Holy One.

What is yet to be of this day, is given into his hands.

The hour of prayer has come and gone.

But the life I live is yet to dawn.

You bring faithfulness and continuance,

O’ holy Lamb of God.

Come and have your way with me.

Teach me great humility.

For you alone are God.

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By His Grace

Godly Sorrow

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There is sorrow in me

For the vastness of humanity.

What they seek so deep,

They will not keep.

The riches of religious pageantry.

The folly of drunken revelry.

The science which explains it all.

The buildings which stand; so many and tall.

Relationships they hold so dear,

While hating those who dare draw near.

The wars they fight with all their might,

With blood spilled out, both day and night!

The music of the devil planted,

The voice of God, by ruse supplanted.

Their love of freedom regardless the cost.

Even though eternal life is lost.

And so much more, time will not lend.

This sorrow in me just cannot bend.

When all it takes is humility,

To seek God’s face on bended knee.

While God’s promise remains,

“Destruction’ coming”.

They go on with all their precious nothing.

They have no grasp of the war within.

Or the strength of all their dearly loved sin.

Instead they see there’s nothing wrong,

For humanity to sing the song:

“I’m only man.
That’s what I am.
How dare you call me to holiness!

If God is true,
Then contempt is for you.
May all your religions be damned!

For there is no God
On our precious sod,
To teach us the way you proclaim.

So then righteous hatred
To you is directed,
There’s no mercy attached to your name!

Now just leave us alone.
Treck on to your home.
But you’ll die like the rest of us.

Eternity’s there.
Will grant you, that’s fair.
But science alone will save us.

You tire out us.
Provoking disgust.
When time’s proper we’ll seek your demise.

Go up old bald head!
Ascend to your home,
Past our beautiful clear blue skies!”

I hear that song sung

As each day has begun.

To avoid it, I am not fit.

So I counter their din

By praying to HIM:

“Please, Great God,
Teach me how to respond.
Lest their blasphemous words destroy me.

For I know you are True.
And within me is You.
Grant me words that release, not restrain Thee.”

Then I wait for a time,

With my soul so inclined,

To hear his most precious response:

“From the time of Adam to the present,
The rebellion of man has ascended.

Men will do what they do!
It’s not up to you,
To stifle the seed that was planted.

I have heard their proud words.
I’ve considered them fully absurd.
For they think that their words can destroy me.

But I raise up my own,
From My Holy Home.
Keeping blind, those fools who offend me.

But write down what’s good,
For its proper we should
Lay fast the vast great testimony.

Soon enough I’ll descend
To bring complete end
To their fully abhorrent false revelry.”

So I started to write,

As best I might,

A recounting of things that are true.

And by all means I’ll fight

To reveal He whose Right

That the Lord may save his sweet few.

By His Grace

From Heaven’s Banks

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What is a desert,

But a place unlivable.

A place where even water

Is forbidden to thrive.

A place where food is:

Quicker than man’s hands,

And acid to the stomach.

A place where a man is:

Destined to die,

And in horrible disarray.

No man passes through

Such a place,

Without desiring the things

Of life.

All this,

Yet God sustains.

The son of unrighteousness beats heavily

Upon the desert of men.

He mocks them

In their plight;

Offering useless promises,

Reminding of delights.

How they make his day pleasant,

To remember roasted pheasant.

While they chew away on cactus,

Malnutrition is their way!

All this,

Yet Christ sustains.

Forced to die and suffer loss;

Of the way of man this is the cost.

Yet there are those who make their way

Fed well by Christ,

And everyday!

You know what I am speaking of,

That healthy banquet from above,

A table in the wilderness

Covered with delicacies of love.

What right-minded man would pass it by?

The jars of water.

The meat is fried.

The succulent fruit from lands afar.

And Holy welcome

From servants of Fire!

But a great traipsing mass

Walks by everyday,

Spurning the offering

Of “The Way“!

Yet of those who sit

And gorge themselves,

How many give him rightful thanks?

By convincing others to come and eat

Of the fruit from Heaven’s banks.

By His Grace