I have no one over me who shows me
Me how to write beautifully
No one who stands next to me
To show me a better way
To string words together and
Weave a fabric rich with deep-seated lines
And colorful hues.
But still the need is there --
To write and to let the words come out.
To put value and meaning to
What has meaning in my heart.
Or, in my life.
At this present time,
I must of my own be the scribe
Critic and editor all-in-one.
Having the difficult job to judge well
The written words that were
penned by myself.
David, a shepherd first and
Later a king who
Wrote many of Psalms of the Bible
I’m quite sure that even as a King
He did not have a Critic, Editor
Yet, the Bible clearly says
The “David was a man, after
God’s own heart and his poetry
Is truly of the heart
and certainly came along
as God worked through
David’s life .”
For the book of Ephesians declares that
“We are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works.”
In Koine Greek, Poema is the word
His work, the Lord’s work in us and through us.
Whether we are fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles,
Sisters, brothers, grandmothers, grandfathers,
or just friend or neighbors.
For we are all his workmanship,
created for His good pleasure.
And when our days have run our courses out,
And as we enter into Heaven
may we all hear the final words of commendation
“Well done, good and faithful servant.
Enter into my kingdom with great joy.
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