Snooze refused

A lengthy nap, four days at rest,
His snooze refused, his chest compressed.
Death lets us go at God’s command,
It bows to Holy reprimand.

Adrift

Straining for life where it’s not,
Defaming of life where it’s known.
Its author we’ve crossed and forgot,
Adrift in our own twilight zone.

Lies told

Lies told bold
That took us in,
Around us wrapped,
Removed our breath.

Tales grown old,
Were freshly skinned,
And left us trapped,
To sell us death.

Scientism says

Scientism says,
They know what is best.
Scientism says,
We should all submit.
Scientism says.
We must all invest,
Scientism says,
Every little bit.

Scientism says,
Go and have your fun.
Scientism says,
There is not a sower.
Scientism says.
When the game is done,
Scientism says,
That it’s never over.

Changing our station

The good and the bad,
His vision is straight,
Our holy dad,
Re-stamps our slate,

Renews our mind,
No condemnation,
Calling us out,
Changing our station.

Grey

Alien our seed they say,
Contradicting God who said,
He formed man from earth one day,
Breathed his soul into his head.

Their father is an absentee,
A dead beat dad they’ve painted grey,
My Father’s never leaving me
His life for mine he chose to pay.

Their mother’s nature as revealed,
In her groves their holy place.
Our mother, we His bride, the church,
His body, every tongue and race.

Everybody’s wood

Chopping spirits free.
Planning parenthood.
Choices all are we
Without bad or good.
 
Our deity declared,
Within the neighborhood,
We’re human currency,
Everybody’s wood.

Without

Without our God our way seems right,
When wrong we think we’re not.
Replacing Him is our big sin,
But He won’t be forgot.

Proverbs 14:12 – “There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.”

Hunger road

He cancels His retreat,
Aware of our distress,
Our King He holds a feast,
Within our wilderness.

With living words and deeds
Providing satisfaction,
His Spirit in us leads,
And quiets our distraction.

Five thousand men plus filled,
Leftovers overflowed.
A feast of life God’s willed
Away the hunger road.

Inspired by Mark 6:30-44 – “And the apostles gathered themselves together unto Jesus, and told him all things, both what they had done, and what they had taught. And he said unto them, Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest a while: for there were many coming and going, and they had no leisure so much as to eat. And they departed into a desert place by ship privately. And the people saw them departing, and many knew him, and ran afoot thither out of all cities, and outwent them, and came together unto him. And Jesus, when he came out, saw much people, and was moved with compassion toward them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd: and he began to teach them many things. And when the day was now far spent, his disciples came unto him, and said, This is a desert place, and now the time [is] far passed: Send them away, that they may go into the country round about, and into the villages, and buy themselves bread: for they have nothing to eat. He answered and said unto them, Give ye them to eat. And they say unto him, Shall we go and buy two hundred pennyworth of bread, and give them to eat? He saith unto them, How many loaves have ye? go and see. And when they knew, they say, Five, and two fishes. And he commanded them to make all sit down by companies upon the green grass. And they sat down in ranks, by hundreds, and by fifties. And when he had taken the five loaves and the two fishes, he looked up to heaven, and blessed, and brake the loaves, and gave [them] to his disciples to set before them; and the two fishes divided he among them all. And they did all eat, and were filled. And they took up twelve baskets full of the fragments, and of the fishes. And they that did eat of the loaves were about five thousand men.”

We’re dead

We’re dead. We stink.
We love the smell.
Without His Life,
We’re bound for Hell.
Where we will burn
Convicts of sin,
Without return
To Him again.

“Thus so wretched is man that he would weary even without any cause for weariness from the peculiar state of his disposition; and so frivolous is he, that, though full of a thousand reasons for weariness, the least thing, such as playing billiards or hitting a ball, is sufficient to amuse him.” – Blaise Pascal, “The Misery of Man Without God”, 1663