The Power Of The Poet
When the power of the poet
Comes from the Lord above,
The whole of Mankind will know it
And know it well enough...
For now, he sits and simply stares,
With phrases in his mind,
But suddenly he says his prayers,
God's secrets to unwind...
Then God looks down and nods His head,
With scrolls held in His hand
That tell the world why Jesus bled
And what the Lord has planned...
The poet humbly waits, receives
And then begins to write,
Sometimes he smiles, sometimes he grieves
As he shares each insight...
For now, a prophet has been born!
His eyes are open wide!
As if to greet a brand new dawn
That fills his soul with pride...
The Lord has blessed him secretly,
With prophecies galore
And his heart is thrilled completely,
Yes, to its very core...
He trembles as he writes each truth,
Describing what must come,
Condemning men with harsh reproof,
So conscience makes them dumb...
So men can't speak or find excuse,
So they seek mercy fast...
So that the Gentiles and the Jews
Find God before life's past...
The power of the poet grows,
As prophecies unfold
And match the beauty of the rose
Through revelations told...
The world will change because he prayed
And God the future shared...
The poet hoped the ones that strayed
Would find that God still cared...
That's why he wept in Jesus Name,
For future mercies when
So many sinners were to blame,
No greater time than then...
The poet's words were stored in books,
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poem by Denis Martindale
Added by Poetry Lover
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