05-11-2011, 03:55 AM
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#1 (permalink)
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zaac's Mood:
Last Online: 01-31-2012 04:50 PM
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praise
Eagle cries 'neath the warm spring moon,
divined with the call of the King of Kings.
Old souls, assured of Heaven's promise
walk on water smooth as brook stone.
A feather laid in yellow oil 'neath a shamans bed;
a prayer of faith in kindness
kept the hummingbird singing,
always singing, even in February.
I saw one once in February,
but I think it was an angel.
Some call the natives pagan;
believing in gods wrapped in fur and feathers.
Yet they are simply messengers,
as the angels are to us.
And whose to say it isnt so?
Does not Jesus say,
"I have children you know not of;
hidden treasures held in my heart."
He who has created worlds with a smile
has walked with me through the night forest.
Bold and strong, He hears our heart,
and sings our prayers at the Mercy Seat.
He speaks of needs we cannot say.
The Holy Spirit is the Great Wolf to some.
Why do you marvel when He says
you speak of things you know not of?
I am not sure how much time God gives me.
Its why I say so much at once.
I'm afraid I might forget a thing
that causes you to fall.
My hope is built upon
the foundation stones of Heaven.
1400 miles cubed its walls will be by Revelation
and God will be with His people.
And the earth will be made new;
no more tears, no more sorrow.
God will see it
and He will say, "This is good."
"Of the remnant came my chosen;
Jew and Gentile, black and white."
You, me, them, us;
its all the same.
And it is not His will that one be lost
in a world six billion strong.
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Last edited by zaac; 05-11-2011 at 05:58 AM.
Reason: punctuation
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