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Post by MIRIAM JACOB on Nov 6, 2008 6:40:35 GMT -5
THE CALL TO PRAYER
What brings the call to prayer?
A darkened room with incensed candle smoke wreathing through the gloom?
A lake glazed in stillness with reflected autumn haze?
Cascades of water in white glittering joy over the altar of the rocks?
Maybe! But sometimes, standing in a queue,
Waiting by angled steel and glass, cocooned in time
Amongst the drone, the phones, announcements in the plastic air,
Too hot to breathe.
Money is exchanged here and the money weighed.
It’s just His love- the price He paid.
It’s just a rush of Love- so swift – and melts me both to weakness and to strength-
-So soon His spirit passes
And draws an silent tear, calling to prayer, lifting one
His hand has touched. He loves him more than I
However life will use him.
God’s Love is tipped upon the scales, pure gold,
Balancing each sorrow, hardship, toil, or doubt-
Each battle- lost or won, it doesn’t matter,
As long as you have run with Him-
You are of infinite worth and so-
Love will outweigh them all.
© PAULINE GRIFFITHS
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