Hard Times


To take to the mountains is sure best of all.

For there the man learns.
There His Glory stands tall.

The valley is full of peacable ritual.
Repetitive practice seems glory to them.

But up on the mountain the harsh wind knows,
How to take a man’s life with relentless blows.

The valley is full with sounds of their begging,
“Forgive us our sins!  Though we keep on forgetting.”

But up on the mountain there’s no time for sin.
The eyes of the climber are transfixed on Him.

Where is the glory on this shaded Earth?
Is it down in the valley; midst those born of mirth?

If you want to be honor, start climbing my friend.
Join Him up there where “THE AIRS” are too thin.

Go to him.
Die,
To the self,
To the norm.
Let Him show you His Glory.
By His Spirit . . .
Be borne!

The harsh things of Earth
Are the nestings of birds.

Let their claws bare you up
As you drink from His Cup.

Or stay in the valley.
Find your way with the men
Who think is quite kindly
To be masters of bending
THE TRUTH.

The Way it is


The gravel lays where it is placed and is forced to be ground to powder.  Once a majestic singular mountain, it is now but blowing dust in the open space.  Dust that is now forced to mingle and no longer be singular.

Raindrops fall by orders from creation.  They take their place together to create a body of water that was not before.  What was taken away is giving back.  A brief independence is forced to reunite.

Tree roots split dirt and rock to produce obedient fruit.  In its proper time the fruit appears and does not fade until ordered to fall.  With a crash the limbs shatter on the ground.  What was once tall and magnificently beautiful becomes rot for the growth others.

Three specimens to show God’s will dictated.  He alone is life, there is no life apart from him.  Yet what shall be said of man?

His body follows the dictates of God: to grow, to do, and to die.  But man is not faithful, as all creation endures.  He contrives means of rebellion.

How many ponder these things as they sit in open places?  How many allow themselves to be struck by the nature of sin?  And how many of those will fall on their face and beg for mercy?

Salvation belongs to our God and to the lamb.  What errant creature is able to save himself?