Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

I.

Wave the white flags
Hold on!
Wave them not until we strike the tents of the arch opponent
Bent crooked like hell to cave in the rights of pent up souls, rent
Who can fix them but one heaven sent?
Blessed and crucified, dead and resurrected
And all to fulfill the will of the father of light;
That all men should repent


II.

Sleeping temples dreaming of oblivion
You're never too tender to pull down altars
Never too dead to be raised
Shut the mouth of hell at night and keep the devils abased
Hold them off until dawn,
When it's Michael wrestling with Persian princes drawn
By stricken flags, they'll lie in wait and hope in deception
They'll dance in vain as long as your prayers go on


III.

Let us brave the rush hours
In stout frames
Climb through to the mountain tops where love's stricken flags still tower
Let us project Christ, the prince of peace
Onto crushed hopes and prisoners of chaotic desires
All bane and sired by evil, destined for wild fire
Let us spread out in our numbers and walk by faith
We'll never get burned so long as we remain one with the spirit


IV.

Watered through a month of Sundays
I cannot help but bless he that brought me the glaze 
Even for eternity, I'd pray for him to stay
Salvage the moments when I watch the lavenders in freshness
And receive what the Word says in graced tunes
While the canary melodies rhyme with her flutters of colored jewels
Each flapping note softening tones
until she sleeps well
I'll mine eternal treasures to be stored up in Zion
Sell the chords fashioned by your hearts behind flags
All stricken by the hands of bond men with no tags

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