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Poetry Paradox



"Words are the tools men use to sketch
dim glimpses of Their Souls"


The Seasons of God's Voice
	
When rumbling thunder booms, and lightening streaks,
and roaring winds tear limbs and bark from trees,
a voice is heard - within my soul it speaks:
with reprimands that bring me to my knees.

The clap of rustling leaves applauding spring:
creates a message to my inner core;
as flowing fields of pansies dance and sing,
that same omnipotent voice is heard once more.

Shimmering waves from summer's radiant heat,
draw word mirages through the humid air;
interpreted by my throbbing pulse heart beat -
the source I recognize : the voice is there.

Then finally winter freezes spoken breath,
and on the tips of icicles silence suspends.
For those who hear the voice pierce shrouds of death,
the message through eternity never ends.



Dying Man's Prayer

Oh, Lord, reach forth your mighty hand 
	and grasp my hell-bound soul;
Unbind my spirit shackled by
	the sins of Satan's hold.

Restore my strength and health which now 
	are fleeting t'ward the grave.
I claim the power of Jesus Christ
	whose name alone can save.

Reverse the power of death while there
	is breath within me still,
and let me have just one more chance
	to follow in your will.

But if there's no more time to grant,
	in this my final hour -
Into your hands I cast my soul 
	to save by your great power.

PSALM 301 Thou art Almighty my Lord and my God. Lend me Your strength as life's rough paths I trod. Each time that Satan makes me fall down, bruising my knees from the rocks in his ground. You pick me up and gently You're there binding my wounds with Your Loving Care. You're never far when my feet start to stray, Calling me back to Your straight, narrow way. Thickets of thorns may surround me and yet Your great protection I always can get. Angels surround me when called for in prayer. Thank You! My Lord, Your love sent them there. Through deepest of jungles and darkest of caves, Your guiding light — my way always paves. When in the waves of life's oceans I'm thrust, You are my hope and in You I can trust. If from high mountains I may be cast down, Wings of Your angels will ‘round me be found. Thou art the One that helps me to stand. Buffeted by winds from life's hot desert sand. You keep me safe when the icy winds blow. Wrapped in your bosom where warm breezes flow. Thou art my strength, my salvation, and hope. Without you - My God with life's snares I can't cope. Hear now this praise of Thanksgiving from me. Thou Art Omnipotent, Almighty Art Thee.

Email: ronbaronsr@web-access.net
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