'Gather up the wounded, ' I heard God thunder once to me.
'The religious have set limits on My Grace that I give free.
For I Am the Great Physician who longs to fulfil man's need.
Hypocrites serve Me with their lips and the hungry can't feed.'
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I searched for Truth, and found the Star
I searched the ocean near and far
And found its' pain a bitter pill
The price: 'to pray for my enemies' still
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Wonder just how many need distractions from their plate
Excuse-ites is a convenient disease not to clear one's slate
Few contemplate their lot for the circumference of the whole
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Talk about a Rose picked, laid to rest, an mirrored of a man's test
And I'll tell you bout the blue Red-rose sheltered by Wisdom's frame
A Love-rose that Father did call by name
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Yeats said: How can we know the dancer from the dance?
Men oft’ do love an artist’s work, minus his personal stance.
I dance for excellence, not that I have perfectly attained.
I dance to rhythm and rhyme but not to distraction’s game.
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Show me the man with God’s own heart
Not one~, with gifting, who’ll later depart
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Now is his propagating madness, legalizing sin
You see witchcraft displayed on TV time and again
Israel’s priests speaks of building of their temple ways
Prophesy foretells a world superman who’ll bring hell’s days
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Heirloom gifts of Grandmother’s seeds are slowing fading away
We need to preserve non-hybrid seeds to secure our future today
Sowing the seeds of our past can be a priceless gift of reality
I wanted to smell some carnations but there was no smell you see
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From the Fall of Man the Devil messed with our Food Choice
Humanity's blind nature came, not adhering to Father's voice
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