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Appalling pride
(why Adam's bride
and Adam the fruit
forbidden tried)

is all the rage.
The world's a stage.
The players must
receive their wage.
I.
In the beginning
God was,
And the blackbird
Was not.

II.
And Adam called it a blackbird;
And that was the name thereof.
Summer showers
fall from heaven.
A rainbow bends
above my head.

I pray twixt the hours
of seven & seven.
With God I'm friends,
& God isn't dead.

He makes the rain
to fall on all,
the unjust & the just,
the birds & the bees.

The hardwood stain
of Adam's fall
turns flesh to dust
& spreads disease.
?
mosquito,
made by
God
con spirito,
buzzzinging
by my
ear
(while birds are singing),
God
made u
,but y
?
Eternally accepted in God’s Son,
His righteousness now credited to me,
I’m pardoned, justified, set fully free.
By grace through faith, hesed is ne’er undone.
No merit of myself on which to stand,
my works of flesh and law won’t favor earn.
But God Himself in Christ, I’d finally learn,
had satisfied each holy, just demand.
And by same grace through faith that justifies,
Christ’s working out His righteousness in those,
by covenant before the world, He knows,
e’er keeps, upholds, protects and sanctifies.
Because in Jesus Christ I am approved,
from trusting in His love I’ll not be moved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As true as the trinity
And Christ's divinity,
And as real as gravity
Isn't, my total depravity
Is undeniable.
But God created me justifiable,—
Me, who's more of a Don Knotts
Than an Isaac Watts.
As I breathed in deep fresh air,
its sharpness a timely kick to my lungs,
I uttered words of praise to God –
these words were unfeigned honest feelings.
Instantly a smothering weariness slackened its grip, faith and nature the sure-fire tonic to fragments of a bruised soul.
Overhead, Terns coasted: side to side like a pendulum.
Swirling unseen, the wind stroked my exposed skin
as the springy grass began to waltz between my uncovered toes –
the sunlit reflections on a glassy brook
unveiling a gaiety
etched on my widening smile.
Crisp water in cupped palms slapped against my butter-soft cheeks
that flushed a plump-wine-red
(full of fruitful vigour),
and satisfied the thirst for assurance – invariably found within the Lord.
Published in Calla Press Literary Journal Spring Issue I 2022. Copyright ©️Joshua Reece Wylie 2022
I place my empty vessels with the King.
Once filled with longing, sentiment and pride,
they sated no one’s thirst, though ego tried—
sin, disappointment, sorrow, hurt ’t would bring.
Knowing devilish poison these contained,
reminded old, dead dregs drained from each spout,
all sediment’ry visage I poured out
of Dionysian wine heartstrings had feigned.
Now in God’s presence, as He cleans smeared crocks
from motives, meanings, memories of words
and clears my mind from myths’ entangling cords,
a tale-abating door behind me locks.
I’m freed! The Gospel story’s what I’ll tell
and offer Living Water from Christ’s well!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ScaryGary May 25
What does it mean to be begotten
does adam think jesus is spoiled rotten
is eve still holding an ace up her sleeve
who is the serpent trying to deceive
Just jotted it down right now..may finish it
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