Poetry

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Written 2-1-05

I was born with a torn heart,
A time-spelled mortal condition;
I could not remove sin’s wicked art,
With my acts of contrition.

With re-birth, I learned of the tear,
To my surprise it grew;
I sought release from the god of the air,
And ran for the eternal You.

As years moved on, I hid my state,
“Is this heart my sad lot?
Would You release from my ache?
And cleanse me of this spot?”

“My precious son, you have My love,
Along with all I promise!
My peace is for you, like a glove.
My truth is gently honest.

“I know of the tear you hold within,
Its sight makes My heart as ice.
Yet it remains, but not from sin.
For from it will spring Christ.”

“The pain you feel is by My hand;
This glory on the horizon.
To reveal My Son in you is My plan.
And make you as strong as Zion.

“How will He come, if not by air?
I leave you with this question.
He will come by this same tear,
And be your great Fruition!”

Hold me beyond the edge of night,
With my heart so aimed;
Take me beyond my greatest fright,
In You I will remain!

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