Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Poets, Prophets, and Seers

Walk steadfast over stones of time,
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 poets words like 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 a part.

There is no wasted labor here.
But 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.) *


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