I have heard them in the middle of the night
At the street corners. When all is asleep
And the moon hangs heavy in the torpor of no-thought
Tongues break -
Whips lash the wrath of heaven on the heathen,
And the minds walled with the fear of God will tomb.
The heart must cringe and the eyes shrink,
For the ecclesiastic fury of the voices with no face
Will pound and grind the mills of doom
With no teeth.
What is the wrath of God that must break
In the horror of the images of hell? that must lash
In the scorpion's tail? that must grill?
God is no mad preacher;
The all-embracing arms will fold the stray sheep
That dud doomsayers kill.
TAN PRATONIX
(Note: This was written long before I was born again.)
I love the message this poem conveys. People have painted a vengeful picture of God with the dark colours of their horrified minds, when God is Beauty, Mercy and Compassion. Susie.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wHO would think God as a mad preacher.......nice poem i don't know if i would ever get fed up reading this 1000000... times loved it it is in my list of favourites... peace **KoNi**