I’m sorry for taking so long to post, but I’ve been in Peru to visit family and see Machu Picchu, making my life busy with random fun and relatives showing up in the traditional Hispanic fashion (unannounced).
Besides that, I’m working to provide you guys a detailed study of Genesis 10, and for that, I’m taking my time looking at the genealogies, tracing down their every occurrence in Scripture. So please bear with me!
But I wanted to take the time to post a poem about God’s sovereignty. I hope you benefit from it—enjoy!
The wispy clouds
Fade like fog into the night.
Gray they sneer at the black around them,
Gray they float as orphans
Hear how they whisper!
They move like the birds,
With wings of air and beaks of mist
They lead the way,
Keeping us at bay,
Filling the abodes above with secrets
Only the ephod can tell whether the day will follow,
Only the rainbow promises to bring about the morrow,
But the Maker of both will fill his treasures
With precious stones that rain down on earth,
Sustaining the earth.
This is the way the world spins
Amid where the crystalline stars shine:
A land of people who let the clouds pass them by
They’re always letting them pass,
Moving and yet standing still
(Moving without motion
Is a lonely way to live;
It’s like running in a treadmill,
Forever frustrated with your progress).
We fight the fog, forgetting (always forgetting)
That these clouds don’t hear,
They don’t part for us:
Nought but their Creator can make them move.
Hell and the Pit pull down
Wanting forever night;
The skies pull up
Wanting forever day;
The Treasure Keeper, as Master, knows the balence to the worlds:
This is the way the world works
This is the way the world runs,
For nought one earth can face destruction
Without divine permission.
And nought but One can bring redemption,
Whom the saints call The First Born—