Poetry

Who But He?

by Savannah Franke
10/14/14
Not For Sale
Author requests article critique

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The Lord has a way of stirring us up.
See, when we see ourselves, we see a mess,
but He looks down and says,
"no, my child, you're just in temporary distress,

for the weights you bare
are not yours to crumble beneath.
Haven't you heard of my strong right hand
and the shadow for you under my wing?"

Within His presence,
as the earth, I too shake in awe
at the mention of the one, the name,
He, who gave it all.

For who but He
sees beauty in a slate of empty space?
A desolate black hole, and
failure's future resting place.

With the knowledge
that it would soon become
a home for His children,
and a battleground for His Son,

He painted the stars
and gave flight to the birds,
filled the oceans,
and named it earth.

Who but He,
the most humble author of life,
wore our skin,
and filled the demons with fright?

Who but He makes darkness tremble,
chains crumble,
and death stumble
all with nothing but a mumble?

Who but He
makes my heart ache with longing,
the earth shake in warning,
and the sky dark in mourning?

Who but He
leads the lame to walk,
the mute to talk,
and His children to rise again?

Who but He
fulfilled thousands of prophecies
that would forever be known
to change eternity?

If you don't know already,
There's none but He:

Holy from creation,
praised through generations,
one on one,
a cry of nations.

A stronghold for the weak,
a safe place for battle,
a cheer for His children to sing, and
the devil's number one hazard.

God of perfect truth,
King unafraid of a fight,
none but The One:
JESUS CHRIST.