Saturday, July 3, 2010

A poem for my mama

No Battle can I fight,
without His footing,
His words,

Blue sky was trying to escape,
from the snow-packed sky,
it almost made me laugh,
to see winter and spring fight.
A song called 'Pure' graced the morning,
because He has the power to strip away all,
making it bare,
to bring it back to life,
and that is my prayer.

To fear nothing more than the Lord,
my God.
His dance is called, 'Beautiful,'
He delights in the children He formed,
His embrace is near.

"To the one who conquers I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone. On the white stone is written a new name that no one knows except the person who receives it." Revelation 2:17

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