They come over mounts

and they climb up…from valleys

many were once labeled…discount

yet, they appear…from the alleys

They travel the high roads

and they walk the coarse blocks

sometimes carrying heavy loads

more often than not…mocked

But wherever they…surrendered

without a doubt…His Light…found

thus, now…yielded and un-pretended…

of His Love, they gratefully…resound

So …imperfect…are they, still

but then, this be a…testimonial plus

as, whenever they pen His Will…

to first, relate…this is a must

For, how could they encourage

unless they too…leaned…on His Strength?

how could they follow His Voice… to forage

if not ‘familiar’ with past places…of stench?

Whereby, when His Phrases…calm…trembling sighs

or mend torn spirits…with hope sashes…

it’s them who ‘first’ find comfort of their own cries

substantiating…faith…does withstand lashes

With just His Whisper… ‘trust, you are mine’

being enough to heal their own weakened rims

they have no need to… sparkle or shine

knowing ‘breath’…belongs to Him

They are then ‘submitted’ to their…Master

as…His…instruments, destined of yore

content to hover…His Feet…forever-after

they pleasurably render…His…encores

This world so big and they…so small

brings on concerns of making mistakes

then comes the thought…it’s not them at all

but Jehovah who wisely…allows…the aches

They are attacked from every side…

invariably ‘pushed through’ this earth’s sieve

none-the-less…His Power…reigns and abides

with His Joy…controlling their grieve

Called to do…what they themselves ‘never’ could

they scribe…His Notes…of healing menuets

being but dust, blowing from…His Woods

albeit, they are…His Poets

1 Corn 1:25-29

©jmsbell-7/3/2023