Posts tagged Poetry
A Nod to the Wind, A Poem
Jul 17th
A Nod to the Wind
A breeze gently caressing the face
Of a man who knows no better
A single molecule, of air, and life
Enters into the lung, and out
Without a hint of indifference
Not one glance to the stars
As if to ask about our mere existence
How can we not see?
When so much exists to prove
What we determine as the immaterial
The same breeze patterns a long cluster of hairs
Standing up and taking notice
Like the goose-bumps that appear
When someone close blows
A small gentle breath in our direction
The breath of God smacks your face
With a warm wet kiss of salt water
And a cool night air that seems
A perfect complement to the patterned sky above
Still, “no proof exists”
At least, that is what we say when faced
With something greater than ourselves
And yet, everything that exists
Is in so much more control than we
So watch the birds as they flock
And the bear as he hunts
Or the seasons change
In perfect harmony with the needs of its bearer
And the breeze; ask it to stop
Tell it to listen to you
Make it understand you
When you say you have no proof
Just don’t be afraid
When you’re faced with the truth
By Brian Dufala
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This poem can be redistributed and shared without hesitation, so long as proper credit is given for the work and so long as there is no charge for distributing, except to cover costs associated with distribution.
Popularity: 15% [?]
Truth Comes
Jun 10th
Truth Comes
Truth stood strong ready to change me
I walked away not ready to bend the knee
Truth comes again and again chipping away
I kicked and fought, but a crack began to fray
When He came again the crack widened
Yet again and the heart of stone softened
Repentance wells up, faith begins to stir
Another soul, a heart to Jesus to ensure
Life begins, a new birth; truth comes again
And so it is that truth saved me from my sin
By Brian Dufala
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This poem can be redistributed and shared without hesitation, so long as proper credit is given for the work and so long as there is no charge for distributing, except to cover costs associated with distribution.
Popularity: 15% [?]
A Poem about the American Church
Nov 29th
I want to be clear about something before you read the below poem. The true church can be found in America, but there are many impostors out there as well. So many of our churches are lost and seeking American materialism over Christ. We must preach the gospel to them in love. We must also be truthful and not mistake the church for all of the buildings we see. If a church is not gospel-centered, does not preach the Word, and in the end, is just as worldly as the local bar and grill, then it is not THE CHURCH. It is a group of lost people that need to hear the gospel. This poem is about the American church as a whole. Rest assured, there are pockets of the true church doing amazing work in America. And yet, we must realize now that America is now truly a missions field. The overwhelming majority of Americans are unsaved.
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The American Church
Your Church was founded under the thumb of death’s solemn roar
Our church in America slumbers in the dark like never before
Your Church was built by martyrs persecuted in the dead of winter
Our American church is built by the deep pockets of greedy sinners
Your Church moves with grace and truth, not confined by walls
In America, we build huge palaces that look like shopping malls
Your Church moves with love to every forbidden and dangerous land
We in America take missions trips for only as long as we can stand
Your Church loves and obeys You, Your commands, seeks Your face
Yet in America, of You we can only find a mere fraction of a trace
Your Church consists of sinners who are “humble and contrite in spirit”
America seeks her best life now, seeking heaven through her own merit
Your Church sometimes stumbles, but repents and seeks You anew
This American imposter takes a mulligan and keeps You just out of view
Your Church preaches the gospel about Sinners in the Hands of an angry God
American Churches pervert Your love while evil observes to applaud
Your Church awaits her Bridegroom and with Him will conquer all
America will hear “I never knew you” and, “You did not follow my law.”
By Brian Dufala
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This poem can be redistributed and shared without hesitation, so long as proper credit is given for the work and so long as there is no charge for distributing, except to cover costs associated with distribution.
Popularity: unranked [?]
Our Savior’s Grace
Mar 1st
Our Savior’s Grace
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I’ve tried as often as I haven’t to become what I am not
Only to find out that I am what all along I had thought
A guiding hand molding the clay into magnificent art
I am what my Creator sees in His eyes and in His heart
Find me, molded into this thing not yet seen by eyes
And hold on to this image, as often as your heart cries
Longing for what mankind, inherently does not know
And I’ll turn to you as your friend and not a daunting foe
This is what my Creator created me, in His likeness to do
Admission of guilt in a prayer brought me life brand new
Sharing with you a path bewildered by its laborious days
Yet in the end, our Savior’s grace, far out weighs
- – - -
by Brian Dufala
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This poem can be redistributed and shared without hesitation, so long as proper credit is given for the work and so long as there is no charge for distributing, except to cover costs associated with distribution.
Popularity: 2% [?]
The Work of a Savior
Jan 24th
The Work of a Savior
There was a time long ago when I was the greatest of men
In pride I walked the land, the entire earth, with the roar of a lion
I sat on the throne of mere human achievement, waiving my hand
I sat smugly in judgment of men that were so clearly less than
It was easy to see them as evil, so long as I were not such swine
It was easy to pick out their crimes, so long as they were not mine
Oh but that day came like thunder when my pride ran away
It came hard and fast, my spirit broke, and my achievement drained
My face turned pale, my heart quickened pace, I was afraid of Him
Even the attempt to lay claim to this event was not a thing I could do
For God did this work in my mind and heart, He saw it through
He in such magnificent sovereignty chose to draw me to Him
He broke me of my pride, my arrogance, He led me to repentance
It is now that I see a crushed savior as something fearfully to love
It is now that I see how evil I am that I can fully understand
I was never great, I had never loved, but for myself, but for me
But for Him, but for Christ, in judgment I would remain to be
He is the potter and I am the clay; He molds and molds and molds
It is to Him be the glory for anything I do and say; for He works
by Brian Dufala
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Here is an MP3 of the poem:
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This poem can be redistributed and shared without hesitation, so long as proper credit is given for the work and so long as there is no charge for distributing, except to cover costs associated with distribution.
Popularity: 2% [?]
