GROUNDED IN CHRIST

Act 2:17, "And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams"

See how beautiful you all perch,

Solely to prove that we're in church.

The old speak in tongues,

And youth preach with gongs.

A sacrosanct routine like this,

And we think we're in the spirit.

So we win many souls today,

Tomorrow we don't know where they stay.

We then give the biblical excuse,

Quoting that the labourers are few.

But do we have enough Pew,

To accommodate the souls anew?

On which solid rock do you stand,

If you won't build in the sinking sand?

So they come in and flush us out,

Because we haven't guarded our own house.

Remember the days of old,

Where in worship, prophesy unfold?

Was there not Eli, when God chose to speak to Samuel?

This is the highest level of maturity,

an epitome of spiritual purity,

and an evidence of transcendent intimacy.

Let your light shine before men,

Else thy gifts be trodden.

You can't let your leaves wither,

Even as the end draws nigher.

Ooh ye, fair daughter of Zion,

Gird up thy loins whilst in thy youth and make that impact.

Comments

CHOICE I didn't make

It is said With no meaning absurd The toad is the best To tell the real feel of water And not by a finger test. We hear the quotation, Your life is in your own hand My infidel interpretation Is, can life be fetched like sand? Some are born of spirits Others by woman Many as offsprings Only one by a virgin I fell in the peasant's farmhouse To a woman who never wore blouse Had friends whose hair birthed lice And siblings who survived on lies Those on the other side Thought a river was like poolside And had TV to view "by the fireside" To them, life began at twenty While mine was waiting till forty. Weeding, pruning and thinning out Consoling myself that time won't run out Producing the golden tree That the lucky kid calls chocolate. Since age three I knew I was getting late But whose choice is it Being unworthy or dear To be born with silver wear Or be birthed a misfit Had we, those in my shoe We the unlucky ones Without any choice, not once Come across...

DREAMSCAPE

An experience of a walking life; Or thoughts of the day in motion at night, Flowing peacefully in spirit like a kite. Awaiting an Estimated Time of Arrival, In your heart’s own built terminal. You woke up from the thunderous snore, Just to realize you were in a slumber. But you vividly remember; The realities you did encounter, And how beautiful it was that you saw. So you shared your story in the morning, While you were still yawning. Yes you shared; With people of like-mindedness. And boom! you are a hit; A one time wander, Now a lifetime wonder, With whom everyone wants to sit, But your dreams, don’t let them plunder. You are now a champion, So go ahead my companion. Go ahead with that plan; Store as many as you can, If it can’t be frozen, just get it canned.

HUNKY-DORY

And here the times come; The times you’ll stand tall And yet your tears will fall. Not for being troubled, But blessings being doubled. Then you will have no more time; No more time for routines, Even the morning warm water and lime, And your favorite dawn gospel tunes. Will you have time for physique, Or your heart to God will turn oblique? Then will you miss your daily exercise; The payer that keeps you spiritual. Will the quiet time zeal turn skeptical? These times shall come nevertheless; Where He will surely find you to bless. But will you be in too much hurry, Or will you take just a minute to tarry? In those moments, When we have no more worry, May we remember the monuments, That has brought us Hunky-dory.

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