Mark Sauer

Rookie - 94 Points (1958 / Texas, U.S.A.)

Charism Glossa - Poem by Mark Sauer

Not a miracle, but the lack of one,
Roiled the tongues on the plain of Babylon.
Not decree, but repeal, sowed confusion
To the rebels, by the fiat withdrawn.
Nor was Pentecost a special wonder,
But a last parable for the simple;
Grace does not increase when split asunder;
One, or legion, is the same miracle.

We grunt in our throat, we whistle and hiss,
Flapping semaphore tongues like flags in sign;
Somehow mind, truth and love cross the abyss,
Somehow remote sealed worlds touch and combine.
Though I do it now, it cannot be done;
We cannot speak a thousand tongues... or one.

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Charism Glossa 'The Gift of Tongues'

Comments about Charism Glossa by Mark Sauer

  • (7/6/2013 11:38:00 AM)

    I agree with you...Grace does not increase when split asunder. It was said that even if we speak in tongues of men or angels, if we dont have will become just a tinkling cymbal. Nicely written poem on complicated subject. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 21, 2012

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