Poetry

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the heart is the seat of our spirit,
   whether that spirit is alive or dead.
by mouth and deeds all will see it,
   whether it's rich or in debt.
 
all we do comes from the heart,
   good or bad, right or wrong.
from the heart is where we start.
   our words and actions as our song.
for the heart is like a tree,
   growing up, to bear fruit or thorns.
what it produces all may eat,
   seeds of life or evil scorn.
 
give us time we show our treasure,
   all our heart holds high and dear.
we will show how we measure,
   what we love or what we fear.
 
we cannot escape who we are,
   for who we are is in our heart.
are we light, like burning stars,
   or do we bring nothing but dark?
but there is one with heart so full,
   so alive and full of good.
that heart holds heaven's Jewel,
   Jesus as Lord, His word as food. 
 
© 10-14-2010
 
Note: A poetic rendition of an article of the same name posted earlier here.

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