The last few poems I have posted have been, admittedly, rather critical. I would like to note that I have not, in any way, intended to hold myself above this criticism and have attempted to explain how much of myself I see in the issues about which I am writing. The following poem is, I suppose, the flip side of the coin. The few people I have seen of genuine faith, who understand their position before God and accept, at times gleefully and at times begrudgingly, that their lives belong to him and there is no freedom in pursuing worthless religion. I hope, though I am certainly unsure, that I more often fall into this group of people rather those formerly discussed. I have once again attempted to make this poem reminiscent of the psalms, as they are amazing and often an inspiration to me.
My hope stands not in flesh and blood
Nor steel, nor wood, nor stone
I stand complete in the Lord my God
He who formed the earth
In the bowl of his hands the world took shape
From the word of his mouth its majesty was made
Let no one say I trust in man
For man is but a fleeting gasp
A wind that gusts and dies
My trust is firmly set and stands upon the rock
Of unremitting love and promises ne'er broken
Which issue from my Lord's kind lips
My peace lies not in this world
Nor sleeps in hearts of weak and willful men
The majesty of God on high
So easily o'erwhelms all the earth may give
I am stranger and alien, foreigner, visitor
And shall, some hopeful day, make my way home
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