PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Glowing city lights upon a hill,

A still beacon in the night, 

Wondering through orbs of light, 

The heights! 

The light! The spheres! 

The twinkling brilliance for journeyman.

Let all who have ears hear, 

The news of God's love

bringing them near, 

Leading them into love's scarred hands,

As a light house we stand,

Many shinning, but as one beacon, one light.

Giving the blind sight, 

A lighthouse leading ships onward, through the mist of deception,

Dispelling every hurt and misconception,

We are a city leading to redemption's hill,

Where our Lord was killed, yet lives, and gives us this great power,

We are a beckoning tower of glorious light,

Let this love take flight, and flutter into the homeless hearts of the lost

And with redemption's news let us implore

That in darkness you must live no more, no more...

We are pottery. Works of art over pouring with this great love,

Basins ready to wash others' feet,

Instilling life in hearts that forget how to beat, 

Let our love be shed in colours of blazing autumn,

Bright burning shades of love in glorious hues,

Like in Matthew it was said:

For I was naked and you clothed me,

I was sick and you visited me,

I was in prison and you came to me.

Now this is true beauty, that no one can deny

Of this kind of love is why our saviour died, 

We are twinkling speckled stars leading ships onward,

Unravelled like a scroll is the palm of God's hand

A land of hearts and hills mapped out: 

The wrinkles of his palms are roads leading us onward,

guiding on

His cross our compass 

leading us to the scarred pools,

on his wrists were souls can bath

Let us lead others--those far away,-

To the bay of his love let them lap up his waters

He is the father, let the children come

Let them see what Christ has done

Across seas so far

Or just across your yard

for the farthest land is a heart away from God

We are his telescope for which the world to view

Vast scope of the galaxies--the embroidered gems of God's robe,

we are a beacon casting open that black orb that is humanities dying eye

we are to shine.

Reaching out: for to make even a finger print

Is grand upon a small heart,

And that is where hand of God starts, 

Scars he knows about, he's hand a few, 

Tell the world that God died for me and you,

Show them the cross,

for we are basins to wash the feet of the lost

The hand of God  to those the world forgot

We are torches,

We are the lips of God,

In the wind we are gentle healing whispers to fragile hearts

Though crushed we are not destroyed

We are the soothing sounds brought by His agonizing shouts

We are to heal the wounded with his wounds

Change the weed into a flower anew

Flouring seeds, a harvest of hearts, we are to reap

We are to sew

To knit together a family of love

The deep wood lines of the cross are our roads

Leading to redemptions, where his arms are open wide.

No storm, no gale, no threat could smother our burning lights,

For water can't put out hears

Each heart to spark another

Each other to lead!

See that city on a hill

See those cities shining bright tonight?

For several burning hearts create a blinding light.