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Ambrosia Warnex Poem
At first glance, scars can be ugly. Mine remind me of the war.
They are proving to be a testimony; giving me something to live for.
This life has not been easy, but another is to come.
I've placed my trust in Jesus, so my battle has already been won.
I sin and fall short of His glory. But when I reach the end, I'll see King Jesus face to face. My Savior. My comforter. My friend.
Copyright © Ambrosia Warnex | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Ambrosia Warnex Poem
The human race, a tapestry of lands, each thread born from ancient hands. From every land, each tribe and face, we carry roots time can't erase.
Subcultures bloom from ancient ground, with rhythm, spice, and sacred sound. Each gifted hand, each voice and art, fashions a legacy etched in hearts.
From deserts wide to oceans deep, our ancestors’ wisdom still does speak. That deep-rooted wisdom shapes the youth. Those ancient teachings whisper truth. They left us songs, they left us flames, to light the path and shape our name.
We gather now, a vibrant thread, woven strong where dreams are spread. We come together, hands unclenched, distributing light where shadows drenched. Embracing difference, not with fear, but with a grace that draws us near.
Each strength we share, each weakness graced, communities healed, society raised. Together rising, side by side, with open hearts and arms stretched wide. We build, we share, we rise, we teach. No soul too distant, nor out of reach. In unity, our spirits fly, a brighter day beneath one sky.
Copyright © Ambrosia Warnex | Year Posted 2025
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