uproot and plant the fields.
Stand firmly in this present place,

the prophets now reveal.

The depths of understanding run,
beneath the tide of hours.
With holy vision the seers see,
and broadcast from watchtowers.

The poet's words like a tapestry,
expresses truth and pain.
The sound we hear from pens and swords,
uncovers hope again.

Listen.
Look.
Live.

As light shines bright
Shadows dissolve
Darkness cannot prevail.

Where grace abounds

Like open meadows 

Love pours out to tell.

While prayer flows

Unlocking power 

Setting things apart.

There is no wasted labor here
Only emptied vessels 
And servant hearts.

We long to truly hear.
We long to truly see.
We long to truly write.
We long to truly know.
The deep mysteries of Him. 
And of His Kingdom.

Michelle Holderman
Copyright © 2016

* (To all my poet, prophet, and seer friends: Thank you; you are loved, needed, and appreciated.) *