The lilt in the voice
The reach of the arms
The kindly word
The hour of prayer
These are some expressions
To the song and time
The rising joy
To the shine in the eye
The flick of the wrist
To keep up with the dance
The slap on the thigh
In this holy romance
To the clouds and sky
The tapping of feet
To the rhythm and rhyme
The leaping legs
To the rising flood
The mighty shout
To the awesome God
To the ones in pain
The loving embrace
To the ones so disdained
The cup of cold water
To those in deep thirst
The loaf of bread
To the need to feed first
To keep others safe
The long intercession
To fill lives with grace
The utter willingness
To do God's perfect will
The life's fervent desire
To be Spirit filled
Of our praise to the Lord
By our actions and thinking
In the light of His Word
To respond in worship
In everything rejoice
To declare God is good
With your hand, heart and voice
�2005, Ernie Abundo Palacio
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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Morticians see the last of thee
And so death will not have any sting
The truth will finally out
No power to stay the mortician�s hand
No benefit of doubt
Each blemish show mortality
And the knife will find corruption
In the flesh that started dying
At the point of its conception
The very problem of being alive
Is to be born with a rotten core
And the filth of the worm as it turns
Escapes through every open door
Making costly vitamins and minerals
And your faithful, daily exercise
As futile as a dry wishing well
In preventing your early demise
And so lies and all that�s evil within
Cause the body with further damage
And no work of note and religion
Can ever stem the demonic floodgates
Save for man to be born again
And re-cored with the power of God
And be virtually a new creation
Cleansed inside by the cleansing blood
But will serve the saints as an exit
Leaving earth and its sorrows of sin
From a long and arduous visit
To a time of glory without ceasing
In a body that will never, ever die
Where morticians find no employment
But to worship our Saviour Jesus Christ
�2005, Ernie Abundo Palacio
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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Dearest Son,
I know You face a world of stiff-necked people,
They're like a patient stubbornly refusing
You have all My love,
We regret to inform You
Our deepest sympathy,
Dearest Father,
It is finished.
Your Son
Everyday they will try to frustrate Our plans
And You will be tempted at every turn to give up.
There's irony here, You understand
What it takes for a sinner to heal,
And their perversion is in desiring
What in the first place has made them ill
But think My only begotten Son
The good Your obedience will do men.
To cleanse once and for all Our Creation
And soon send down that dragon to hell
Think of the joy I have set before You.
Soon, it will soon come to pass.
And Your Name shall be great among the nations
So keep your eye and heart on the task
Father.
Dear Sir,
That Your Son died of slow asphyxiation
As of three o'clock in the afternoon
Due to prolonged crucifixion.
Although pierced by a Roman spear
Autopsy revealed a startling fact,
That Your Son may well have died
Of a broken Heart.
The Office of the Coroner,
The Roman Empire
See You in three days.
With all My love
I'll be on My way
�2005, Ernie Abundo Palacio
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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