Ecclesiastes

A boy set out to win the prize and be forever wise;

he took a gift from heaven sent, and ruled his kingdom come.

The boy became a growed up man, and rich beyond compare,

a palace with a golden gild, so many ladies, fair.

But as he aged, he gazed upon a mirror on the wall,

 reflected there was vanity, his mind so very small.

These things he had, without God’s love, they never would suffice.

They could not fill the great big hole; they led to just supplice.

And vanity was hidden there, it whispered in the weeds,

the sin of Cain was on his hands, it planted broken seeds.

 But yet he saw another hand, a holy, wounded limb,

The shining face, of timeless age, reflected back at him.

This limb it sprang from Holy root, the tree of life it grew, and in a twinkling of an eye, the man

forever changed, yet still he fights with vanity, but now he sees his sins.

Court of Grace

A court of grace would have no laws, but brim with broken hearts,

 

and flowing there, on stoney ground, would run a crimson tide,

 

a tide of love, a tide of tears, in thanks for sacrifice,

 

and flowing from the open doors, this tide would be poured out…

 

a river of new, unending healing balm, forgiving every doubt…

 

awash in answer to His prayers, His mercies, inside-out.