It's determined not
By your flow of words
Nor the rhymes
That makes a rhythm
Those are countless

It's by the courage
You simply give
To the new ones
For that shows
The love of poetry

Best Poets Are Among Us

Your greatness surpasses all human understanding,
Your love moves beyond the longest of distances
And your forgiveness goes deeper than the ocean floor,

When creating masterpieces,
artists do not hesitate
to smear their bodies
with paint and clay.

So also God,
when He had decided to make me
stooped to the ground He had made
and smeared Himself
with clay.

Same God,
when I bowed to corruption,
stooped to the ground,
and smeared Himself
with blood.

Oh how could the Immortal
put on mortality for my sake and yours?
how could the All Powerful,
for a man so little
humble Himself so much?

But He would not forbear
to see His child in Sheol
And He would not suffer
His holy one to see corruption.

He smeared Himself with clay-- my weakness,
that I may put on His Strength.
And He smeared Himself with blood -- my sin,
that I may become His Righteousness.

He broke the bars of death
that I may be delivered from the grave:
This is My God!
And He is Mighty to Save.

He's her sickness, with him she's unwell
She's his drug, without her life's hell
He's her nightmare, with him she's frightened
She's his sweetest dreams, without her he's burdened
He's her despair, with him she's grieved
She's his hope, with her he's fulfilled
He's her failure
She's his success