Poetry

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My heart is empty. O, so cold.
Except for its fear, not so bold.
I read a word, a certain psalm.
For righteous things this heart longs.

A heart there flows
   with a good theme.
Right words glow,
   Your Spirit brings.

Recite the writes about the King
   with words of Light, that we may sing.
Our tongues as pens of ready writers,
   to sing the truth; 'gainst darkness, fighters.

Fairer He is than sons of men.
Poured from His lips, Grace He sends.
He girds His sword upon His thigh.
With majesty, He glorifies.

Ride righteously in meekness and truth,
   You stand His Son, as such His proof.
Your right hand taught you awesome things.
Your arrows sharp in hearts of kings.
Your throne, O God, is forever.
Your scepter of reign, a righteous scepter.
Your love is for things of righteousness.
So You hate all things of wickedness.

As God, Your God anoints You so
   with oil of gladness as He is true.
Far 'bove the angels You’re ordained.
Your sole right is Yours to reign.

Your garments are scented with myrrh and aloes;
  they testify of all Your woes.

Listen, O daughter. Incline your ear.
Forget your people, your home there.
The King desires all your beauty,
   for He is your Lord. Worship greatly.

The daughter of Tyre comes with a gift;
   the rich of the people seek to heal the rift.

From ivory palaces they make You glad,
   for with our sin You were made dead.
Kings' daughters are among Your women.
Queen of Ophir at Your right hand in heaven.

The royal bride is glorious within the palace;
   Her clothing of gold, with grace’s chalice
      she'll bring to the King, in robes variegated,
         the virgins, companions, who follow as led.
With gladness rejoicing they shall be brought.
They enter the palace. For grace, brought to naught.

Instead, Your fathers shall be Your sons,
   You make princes to rule without guns.

I’ll make Your name all generations remembered.
The people shall praise You forever and ever. 
Your path so righteous, leaving Your glory.
You desire us to be part of Your story.

My heart returns,
   leaving from heaven,
      with traces of Grace,
         being Christ-driven.
It lost its dark fear,
   returning to earth.
The Spirit in here,
   with His good mirth.

© 6-4-2011

Psalm 45:1 - My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite my verses for the king;
my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer.

I called this “The Theme” alluding to the truth that the Lord is the only worthwhile theme upon the planet He created. Revelation 4:11 makes the same allusion, stating that He is the reason we exist: to glorify Him.

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