Poetry

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I am waiting
for God to
light a fire.
He must build it.
Log cabin style
or tee pee,
I'm not sure
what I see,
but the wood
is being laid down
for me.

The fuel to bring
more than a spark,
that He is
sprinkling
all over my heart.

For when he strikes
that match,
my ministry
He will hatch.

Oh what a flame
He will be
in me.
I wait to see
what He brings
when I offer
Him me.

H. Stone (C) 2006

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