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Fingerprints of the Father

Patterns of life, how can something come from nothing, how does order result from a chaotic beginning, The genomic helix, encoded so small, building blocks of life a formulae masterfully done, Please explain to this fool how the human eye does espy borne from randomness winning, How does an organism breathe, where does come from the spark of life begun, Traced upon these are the fingerprints of the Father, Who decided that golden leaves from cyclic trees would change and turn their hue, How is it that the oceans vast overcome not the nocturne shores they kiss, By what power were vast mountains raised from a fiery magma stew, What breathe directs the clouds rolling high what hand holds them in seeming carefree bliss, Beyond these elements are the fingerprints of the Father, The rivers toiling Neath turquoise and emerald depths this way and that, Lobster and tuna, swordfish and crab, anemone and urchin, fish and star, Whom kisses Leviathan's cheek in deepest darkness its visage whom begat, When he thrashed his tail mighty and rumbled his primal roar over miles rolling an echo spread so far, Upon the mighty waves are the fingerprints of the Father, How is it that our planet is just far enough from Sol yet close enough to support, Whence comes the power gravity who holds our feet fast to this earth, Who start the rotation and began its seasonal declination in this cosmic sport, By what hand were the heavens placed and the giants celestial at what time were they given birth, Over the expanse of space and time are the fingerprints of the Father, So if come we from monkeys and therefore they came from primordial scum, How is it that the gorilla, chimp, lemur and orangutan do not live and act as humans do, Where is their nothing that brought them and caused them to be different from tree and plum, Who is right, is it by evolution's theory or creation's story which is true, Imparting His truth and wisdom to the humble are set the fingerprints of the Father, A man, a woman, for all who hurt, are broken and seeking to fill the greatest need, How does the mother know what her dearest babe needs before it can talk, By whose hand motivates sinners to repentance, by blood and suffering and most difficult of deed. Refuse was the past into new life at last dead in trespass alive in Christ with Him He desires for all His children to walk, From an empty tomb to His glorious triumph over sin and the grave is the victory of the Father and Son.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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Date: 2/18/2011 12:04:00 PM
Welcome to PoetrySoup Jason. I am sorry for being late to welcome you to the site. I hope to be back and at full speed in the next week or so. Until then please keep writing and sharing your poetry. Love, Carol
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Date: 2/15/2011 6:44:00 PM
This is a little more to read, but worth it. You have deep descriptiveness in this collection of words and lines you have formulated.
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Date: 2/15/2011 6:37:00 PM
Nice thoughts you have penned on faith in this write, jason
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