Still stands the night,
an immovable mountain.
A light snowfall of moonlight
on its exposed terrain.
An isolated star shimmers and shakes
its avalanche of brilliance,
outshining myriads of lesser snowflakes
that adorn the night’s somnolence.
In the lee of this mountain,
amongst taupe shadows deep,
three riders their clutches tauten
halting their steely steeds, while other men sleep.
Their chill- wizened faces
look up to the sky
whilst blind night embraces
the three Magi.
Through centuries they’ve travelled
like astronauts through space
though men still hadn’t unravelled
the first mystery that had taken place
on the outskirts of this beleaguered city.
They gaze at the star questioning:
was man ready for the immensity
of the Second Coming?
The frosty light of the star
then started to melt and wane.
It was too soon for the avatar,
the world was still profane.
They re- revved their machines
and set off into orbit exquisite.
Astronomers observing the dying sheen
said t’was a star of hope that surely would revisit.
The watchman wakes to the drone of the swarm,
The falconer’s voice lost in the engine’s scream;
Damascan sands shift beneath the iron tread,
And ancient Elam stirs from its long-held dream.
The midnight hour is bruised by crimson flare,
The innocent bartered for a desert throne;
Diplomats falter, hollowed of their prayer,
While zealots reap the whirlwind they have sown.
A sign, the temple veil is torn once more;
The end draws near; the King stands at the gate.
Prepare the way through smoke of Eastern shore,
Behold the Lord who masters time and fate.
The martyrs rise when His command is heard;
The Kingdom comes—fulfilled in Christ the Word.
By Rick McGrath, Ph.D.
My tomb lies empty through resurrection
Another chance to gain ascension
But what seemed a miracle
Was a curse instead
I discovered the living
Preferred me dead
The ass on high protein diet
Thinks he can really fight the beast
The beast has lost his instincts and
He is struggling to just live
The genius is being mocked
Mediocrity is being preserved
Monk is yelling abuses
The preacher is moaning in the jail
The poet prophecied of "second coming"
I can just cry for him to arrive
Deception is all around us, in our environment, leaders, in our own very hearts. Think of the Free Will you imagine you have. If 10 objects are placed on a table, you have a free choice of choosing? No, you are yet restricted to the ten and the table you did not create. Think of the Earth?! There is only one way of having true free will...and that is if this cycle of earth environment we actually created ourselves, a reflection of our own combined spiritual development and progression of consciousness. God created us His Children, Heirs -- not His helpless offspring -- begging and graveling in the soil. Don't think for one moment, that Father's first plan for this creation, was for us to survive like carnivorous animals, creatures tearing other creatures apart in order to feed and have strength for violent procreation. There are better ways, and there will be no Second Coming until we make proper use of the First. Or our God is finally fed-up with the lot of us. Have we lived the First? The Christ example?
Mercy God has bring
This joyous Christmas season
To all life that hope spring
There's a thousand happy reason.
The Savior has decided
To be with men once again
And live on Earth He agreed
To fulfill His fate to not in vain.
While the world is busy
Man is also busy in his own thing
God is making man's road an easy way
To be with Him that eternity sing.
I have this premonition
The Second Coming is already here
Not in His Jewishness admonition
But in His Spirituality salvation we all hear.
A figure rises, dispelling gloom
With rhetoric strong, he claims the fight
The second coming, a nation's right
© daniel miltz
The Second Coming of Jesus
Upon the clouds, in glorious light,
Our Savior returns to end the night.
With gentle grace, and fierce as fire,
He fulfills every soul's desire.
Once born in humble, lowly place,
He came to save the human race.
This time, He’ll come in majesty,
The Lamb, the King, eternally.
Trumpets sound and mountains bow,
All creation waits somehow.
The lost are found, the blind will see,
In His presence, eternally free.
He gathers those who knew His name,
For whom He bore the world’s disdain.
The faithful rise, in robes of white,
To reign with Him in endless light.
A peace descends, the wars will cease,
In His kingdom, love’s release.
Every tear and earthly pain,
Dissolved in joy, washed clean like rain.
O Lord, we wait, our hearts prepare,
For the day when You’ll be there,
To claim Your own, to bring us home,
No longer lost, no more alone.
In hope we stand, our spirits sing,
For Christ, our Lord, our risen King.
The promise made, the dawn will come,
Jesus, our Savior, calls us home.
The Second Coming of Jesus; and the Third, Fourth, Fifth…
It’s always said, since century four,
‘All man, all god’, the creed does roar.
Jesus, of course, is of whom they speak,
And when this battle reached it’s peak,
It was decided, both he had,
And so in both, he was clad.
And if we take that at its word,
A specific male trait must be heard.
Nocturnal emissions, for every male,
Universal, it does not fail.
If your seed you have not spilled,
Then during your dreams, it will be fulfilled.
A normal function, all men can say,
A wet dream it’s called, “dreaming play”.
So Jesus either had sex or not,
But either way, he had to have shot
His load at some time, whether awake or asleep,
If not, his humanity, he does not keep.
So for all you males who awoke in your bed,
Keep this thought within your head.
In this you know you share a trait,
With your god. You got to donate.
There will come amid cheers with flag, cup and crown
A white charger bearing the new king to town
Thus begins the dawn of the orange rapture
When the true blues ten in a row will capture
If we had known he was coming
we would have played our drums
till our fingers bled.
Our women
would have decorated themselves
painting their bodies and nails
and weaving colours into their hair
they would have laid their wrappers
down on the dusty ground
for him to walk over.
We would have hung banners
from the trees
and buntings would adorn every house.
We would have proclaimed
the day
a public holiday
and we would all have gathered and waited,
danced and sang
and made merry
while we waited for him to come.
But not he,
like a master that catches his servant sleeping
or
like a thief that comes silently in the night
or
like a ghost that blows in with the morning dew
he came.
no drums, no trumpets, no praise-singer
heralded his arrival
and he was standing in our midst
before we even knew it.
W B Yeats 'SECOND COMING'
1 2
oo.ooam eta
AD0000 TBC
Where will you be when Jesus comes?
Would you still hold the hand of the dark one?
No creature in heaven or earth knows,
The second coming of the Son.
Should we not try every day,
To repent and walk away?
Away from the ways of the dark prince,
Whom this world belongs to.
Will you be ready, for the rapture?
When we are taken up into the clouds?
Or will you be left behind?
Wake Up!!
There is not much time.
Don’t be a fool.
Walk away from darkness.
Let your light shine.
Anti-Poem — “Nuclear Noah”
i turned the white sidewalk extending to beverly boulevard
my street teeming with oozing life the stilled human voices
the decades dead coming out of their houses again coming
down the dim sidewalk wearing the colors of remembrance
electric mothers with babies on porches spying the galaxies
i saw them all watched them climb the open skies at sunset
their resurrected arms extending to the apexes to the stars
supersonic specter opens the chest plate carves the future
trumpet peels reverberate like singing priests at noon tide
the host is lifted the choirs of the redeemed drone on now
i saw them go up climbing spiraling upward into the tumult
nuclear noah with eyes of jasper descending to the throng
the dream door is closed is locked for seven black autumns
The stars will twinkle so brightly,
When our loving Master comes,
So hold onto blissful faith tightly,
Through myriad tangerine suns!
Jade hills will ring with laughter,
In plum diamond sunshine glitter,
As the dim past ceases to matter,
And never again is anyone bitter.
Vivid flowers will bloom profusely,
When the Master arrives in glory,
And I sign my heart as yours truly,
In the hour of love's final victory!
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