Wednesday, January 23, 2013

My Creator

He formed the earth
All that is contained within
Yet he lies in a manager
Not ever to be bridled to sin

To shepherds, to commoners alike
This babe has been unfurled
Yet Savior to a fading dying world
He is a babe, helpless with tear
And kings of this realm for him already fear

He entered the world with straw and barn
Flailing fists to become hands that darn
Already richer than the Wise men’s gifts
This world he comes bearing a spiritual rift

He has not much reason
Or understanding as of yet
But His blood atonement
In the unseen realm has been set

Born for a people already living dead
A shepherd to gather His sheep to His stead
A cross is his prophecy that awaits for him
Emerging empty the tomb will not constraineth Him

His unfathomable love for us he yet not knows
About conquering kingdoms and spiritual foes
Someday soon He will speak Living Words
From our Heavenly Father so for victory we shall grow

His Words like a heart
Shall beat Spirit and Life
With blessings we shall overcome earthly trials
To the one chosen His life

For those whom believe Him for righteousness sake
For unto us He will never forsake
The sting of death will leave itself behind
A torn curtain placates an atonement of kind

Ripped open by sacrifice by the one true King
Before His throne everlasting, Praises we will sing

Copyright 2012 Wandering Satellite Publishing
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