| | (and even we may relate)
The Cry of Israel
I am worm
Crawling in the dirt
Writhing in my attempts
The ground has hardened itself against me
It allows no place to bury myself
The vegetation grows scarce
There is nowhere to flee from the wingéd beast
I am maggots
Parisitic I try to feed
On the decay of the world
My legs have failed under me, Indeed I have none
I can find no host in which I may sustain myself
They wander far beyond my reach
There is no way to flee from the wingéd beast
There is no aid
There is no water
There is only desert
Only a future of the pangs of hunger
Only dry parched throats, parched lands
The beasts gather round, waiting to feed upon my remains
There is no rescue
But lo,
A voice crying in the desert
Not the prophet I have heard
Not the priest nor king
No, it is the Lord
The Lord Himself provides His host
He Himself speaks
"Little worm, fearful maggots,
Fear not,
I have gathered you,
Bird and beast have not struck your head,
By your right I lead you from your toil,
I open the ground so that waters may flow forth,
Even from the sands I have rescued you,
I cast strong fortress among them,
In places where none before could dwell.
Even trees and vegetation arise.
Legs you shall have to stand upon,
But not just so,
For also you shall be prepared for battle
Your greatest foes you shall cast aside when I have finished my work with you.
You will cry my name in those times
And all will know Me.
All will see who has given you such things.
All will see what the hand of the Lord has made
what the Holy One has created.
The Kingdom is at hand."
|
| | Posted 12/14/2007 2:09 PM - 10 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
- recommend
  - recs0
- share
- email
 - sent0
|
