Wednesday, May 30, 2007

new blog feature: prose and poetry

The gates are burned by fire,
long ago,
and seasons have passed,
the coming and melting of snow,
yet still there are embers,
and desire.

Memories fading,
wounds healing,
the fullness of time ripening,
the spirit moving.

The fortress of love can never fall,
Salem awakens,
the city on a hill cannot be hid,
she will not be forsaken,
the rebuilt temple,
an eternal call.

A Biblical echo is my light,
and resonates,
in the canyon of my heart,
we who have suffered,
may never recover,
yet still fight.

Nehemiah,
alone at night,
walks broken walls,
calculating, praying, planning,
angels whisper,
and take notes,
far away.

And the lion of Judah roars,
so far away,
so faintly,
that at 1st it feels like imagination.

focus

can you hear it?

the 1st to hear it,
are the 1st to move,
slowly,
deliberately,
resolutely,
flint-faced,

stronger from the truth inside,
than the lies outside.

And as they move out of the shadows,
thier swords glisten in the dawn,
and the darkness quakes,
fleeing from thier presumptions.

And then everyone,
picks up thier nails,
thier hammers,
and the blueprint,
comes to life,
piece by piece,
brick by brick,
word by word,
deed by deed,
thought by thought,
soul by soul.

Swords in hand,
brothers and sisters in arms,
claiming birthright,
claiming destiny.

And the secret church,
is reborn!
And the temple fire is kindled,
and the light flows over the valleys,
and the seekers, sick, and saints,
come home!

after captivity has ended

when spring comes again.

And those that sowed in tears,
will reap in joy!

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