An October Poem — October 30, 2012

When darkness falls upon the seas
and the wind starts howling through the trees,
when the bloodlines of history converge
and descendants gather with an unholy urge
to color red their pristine finds
considering themselves to be of greater minds
than the captive ones whose hearts they steal
in a ceremony they think is real,
what they don’t know is that true power
does not come from the bleed
and true freedom comes from the Seed
of the woman and Spirit in that hour
when you surrender all
to the One who was here
before the Fall
the One who someday makes all things new
the One to Whom true allegiance is due
for it is by His hand that we are made
and by His hand we will be re-made
in the time coming long ago foretold
by the ancient ones they paid heed
before their souls were sold
for the sake of greed
and power
causing their life blood to sour
and ruin the futures of the ones to follow
while in evil they did wallow.

But farther on down the line
in a future place and time
one was freed
by trusting the Seed
of the woman and the Spirit.

One would live and another would die
trapped within the destructive lie
that there really was no way out
despite how you kick and scream and shout
and struggle to break the bond
that holds you tight and won’t release
as if you are locked within the valise
of a perverted vagabond.

So with freedom’s wings the heart soars
the shofar blows
and Y’hudah’s lion roars.

There’s no more joining
with bloodline clans
with coloring red
or man’s plans.

There is simply
connection with the Creator
forgiveness
and freedom.

On the Altar — April 23, 2005c

On the Altar

On the altar stone so cold
Lay the child all alone.
Bare of skin she naked lies
As they secure her with magic ties.

Across her stomach
Across her chest
Across her legs
Her arms and neck.

Invisible are they
And out of sight
But securely they hold
And very tight.

Incantations fill the air.
Fight, fight, if you dare.
But no – the ties now hold her tight
Strong as chains – dark as night.

Rama, rama eli lan
Rama, rama pontis can
What be the words – what do they speak?

In Y’shua’s name I break the curse.
In Y’shua’s name I cancel the program.
In Y’shua’s name the track will fail.
In Y’shua’s name I refuse the mail
That’s sent on wings of demons
It flies, but there’s a wall
between it and me.
In Y’shua’s name there’s failed delivery.

I am free
No more am I theirs
A slave set free
No more to be shared.

©April 23, 200511:30 p.m.

The Seasons of Time — April 22, 2005

The Seasons of Time

The seasons of time pass through
our mind
Flowing like so many rivers
of pictures
The feelings fly –
soaring through our hearts
Bringing the stabs with them.

We long to be free
To soar
To fly
On wings of healing
and angel lullabies
To be touched deep within
and freed from the sin
Of those who have hated us
abused us
or worse –
looked on in indifference
Allowing our cries
To fall on deaf ears
and hearts of stone
Leaving us with our abusers
All alone.

But You were there!
grieving
crying
watching
Longing to stop it.
Did You ever regret free will, O Lord?
Did You ever regret the freedom You gave?
To choose the bad along with the good?
To chose evil over right?
Curses over blessings?

I wonder
How I wonder

If, while You saw the hurt
and the pain
Did you regret making mankind?

©April 22, 2005

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