Just Takes One a Personal One
What I’m saying right now happened to me last night.
I was in Spirit dreaming, when out of the dark came a white light.
It radiated, it glared brightly and I thought “it hurt a bit”,
My eyes were not accustomed to it.
A whisper spoke and said in a comforting voice,
“The Lord knows your needs; He’s giving you a choice.”
That shook me to my roots “You’ve been given a gift,
To pen in verse, help your brethren to give them a Spiritual lift.”
I rolled and opened my eyes, sweating and numb,
It bothered me, because I know I’m not dumb.
This dream was vivid, it was a flashpoint.
An Angelic voice, telling me I’m to be a writer of sorts.
This dream was not a nice one,
I worked in a foundry, dumping corpses in ovens.
I have to say it shook me to my core.
But the dream had a reason this I was sure.
It was as if I was looking down on myself,
I worked in this foundry, all persons dead, no one else.
The lunch bell rang; I’m assuming this I’m sure.
Because instantly I was standing on a hill.
I knew the cure!
How I knew don’t really know, it’s my inner voice.
You know the one, the Holy Spirit whisper,
The one that gives you no choice.
The foundry representing fallen souls to the eternal final pit.
They (the souls) were thrown into a vat and that was the end of it.
If as Christians we listened to our Spiritual Father,
There would be blessings, as individuals we would all gather.
The fallen ones, the souls with no help, no future, no true home.
The “trickster” the evil one, cheats all fallen souls from entering God’s Kingdom.
So my talent, God given of course; all praises to Him.
Told me to say, be vigil on guard, the trickster is the master of sin.
Listen to your Spiritual Father, He’s telling us at this time.
To repent, pray, trust Him, or you’ll be that person in the basket and
That’s the real crime.
It ends when the lunch bell rings twice, I am assuming,
Tell the worker to come back to work.
I cannot, will not, could not go back to those iron works.
That is when I saw evil, the building, the spiritual trickster.
Looks good, smiles okay, then changes instantly and I see him
As he is, a petty fixer.
Don’t my Brothers and Sisters be deceived any longer,
The devil of old, that serpent, isn’t getting stronger.
His time is disrupted when writers, who all pen God’s
Mighty sword, “the pen”.
And we just save one from the vat, from the foundry
You help put a Brother or Sister in our Lord’s Kingdom.
Robert Ball
August 21, 2011
Copyright © Robert Ball | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment