by Eddie Thompson
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Rated "G" by the Author.
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(No matter how much they try to erase faith from this world, they can't erase the faith locked within our hearts.)
Ended? Dead? How can that be?
The worlds we've created:
The passion born of the wood of the cross:
The shine of the stars? The flow of the river?
Is that what has become of me—of us?
What of all the life?
What of the breath that still roars within me?
What of our angels? Of our dancing hearts?
Who will condemn and board up the houses we have built?
What of our villages of joy and peace
Where the kids are safe to play in the streets,
And our hearts are too?
What sort of world would this be
With rivers left un-splashed in,
Haystacks left un-jumped on,
Rainbows left un-treaded upon,
By the worthy feet of soul-mates?
Companions: Dancing in gold‑filled pots of redemption?
Is this the question before the court today?
For I object on grounds that I could not survive
If they burned my glory down,
Took away my hope—our hope
In the cross, the river, and the breath.
Ended? Dead? As if!!!
Alabaster Publishing Company
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|Reviewed by ~ Holly Harbridge (Reader)
|An excellent write, dear friend. God Bless, Holly|
|Reviewed by Cynth'ya email@example.com
|Got that right Big Brotha Eddie.
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|Your faith shines through in this powerful poem, Eddie. Love and peace. Regis|
|Reviewed by jude forese
|excellent poetic composition with a strong message ...|
|Reviewed by Emeka Nwogu
|Lovely write, Eddie. Even if they burn our glory down. we will rise and plod on.
|Reviewed by Cathrine Hottran
|Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
|good message in this, pastor eddie! Very well done!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in tx., karen lynn. :(