The Confessor
Consistency is character that spells what no one reads again
Habits other-centered distrusted, ridiculed, and yet sustained
Altar and cross accepted is what love requires, the sharp flame
Rinsing spirit of the flesh, humility's morning in earth's night
Ark of the soul, the lettered truth believed, let none disclaim
Conscience compass, and steady guide; the pure can see aright
Truth only seen by those that look for truth, men find what they seek
Envy or expectations crude will not deter what honor risks
Resurging in that simple world where alone may stand and speak.
Testify then not like the praised familiar, but in peculiar tones
Earnest dreams, that in example unworded take the stair alone
Silently upward neath the strain, to hear him sings who groans
Tested by the views of earth, but higher yet the eyes enthrone
Inspired bent of heart, that shall not be spoken for but applause
Mortified flesh then must ever carry that immitated and holy scar
Opportunities seeking to transform from shame the fallen cause
Natal to the sin nurtured life, and be spent as candle instead of star.
Ingrate this then, the self-willed fool who through that yields glory
Anchored in the truth of faith's parable in the known unknown story
Leaders of truth find their still waters in the shadows of death and war.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
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