Growing
 

GROWING

A thunder-maned horse paweth yon valley floor
Snorting rage, fearing naught battle sound.
So the man having found blessed eternal door,
Mocketh fear as he swallows new ground.

Yea, the zeal as a fire in his bosom doth nest
With his sword seeking devils to slay;
To the front! To the front! Beckons he to the rest,
We shall drive imps to Hades foray!

Knelt in closeted stage; O my God, doth he cry;
Save for me, how your cause soon would fail.
Ah! Your people all sleep…none will fight…only I;
But with you, I alone shall prevail!

Run on precious child, let strength fill her course;
Ye do well…your foundation I’ve lain,
But a servant yet grown is an unbridled horse,
Till your Master’s scarred hands hold the reins.

You see, I’ve ordained that the blessed be poor,
In your spirit that serves you so well;
Yea, behold that I only must open each door,
And have shaken the portals of Hell.

By strength shall no man prevail my son,
But in weakness, you make room for me.
And if I fully dwell in the race that you run,
Then I promise you sweet victory.

Thus your spirit so rich, I shall tenderly pare,
Yea, my furnace is but for the dross
And the zeal you so love, I do happily bear,
That you too, might endure on the cross.



:nod

Re: Growing
 

That is awesome! The zeal of the newly born again is a joy to see, but as you so aptly shared in your poetic rendering.... a picture of how one must begin to see himself... not as a lone warrior against the pack for the great cause... but a servant fully surrendered to His Master and how that is far more useful in the kingdom of the Lord.

You have a skillful way with words :)

Re: Growing
 

Thanx Kept. Always such kind words from you.:yourock