Poet of Ephraim

I'll ignore what you think is important and true, I can't agree with what you say or guide me to do. I'll turn from your advice without further thought, Just a few things you stand for will get my support. I won't take your point of view into consideration, For your way is wrong now, by my estimation. I don't want your wisdom in any shape or order, Yes I do love you dearly Lord just not your Torah. Wake up church ~Poet of Ephraim

The soles of my soul are calloused and blistered, This pilgrimage is rougher and longer than pictured. One stride feels like three, three years pass like one, My golden homestead calls beyond the burning sun. I march on despondent, crushed flowers in my wake. Let the thorns have their fill, it's only flesh they take. Tunnel-vision obscures the grey grown in strife, O my home, my home… When will you arrive? Ode to New Jerusalem ~Poet of Ephraim

The hyenas cackle over their bowl of bile, The pigs feast gladly on what's wholly vile. The spiders web in bloodlust greed, The snakes crush the weak who plead. Corrupt! Corrupt are the sons of Adam! Who laugh as sons of the wicked are fattened. Both will prosper 'til the day they're sentenced, And in that Valley there's no repentance. Inspired by Joel 3:11-16, Matthew 13:24-30, Matthew 25:31-33 ~Poet of Ephraim

You intoxicate me, I wander aimless like a drunkard, About to choke or burst from all the joy I've plundered. And if so, amen, for you're my hopeful destination, And I buckle to the fear of you exceeding expectation. A spring dances tirelessly deep within my centre, The salve of eternal life and teacher of your splendour. Propped up by mercy, others baffled by my speech, Drunk on great love, staggering in great peace. ~Poet of Ephraim

Ministers to my heart sing hidden by the trees, Flawless compositions perfectly interweaved. A caress from creation, a sonata for the soul, A delicate dance between chaos and control. Ministers to my heart, joy and peace surround you, How sullen would I be amid greenery without you. You bless all below you and praise the Most High, Ever rejoicing to gift us your psalms of the sky. ~Poet of Ephraim

You can tell a natural dancer from a trained performer, Even if the latter knows much more than the former. Their rhythm's innate and so each movement is truth, And with wisdom they flow to however the music moves. But the trained are limited to motions they've bought, And expression is bound in the patterns they’re taught. You can tell a man of God from a trained performer, Even if the latter knows much more than the former… ~Poet of Ephraim

No stone left uncovered by a sandal or hoof, Trees groan under weight spilling over each roof. Young lifted on shoulders, even the timid get loud, Both humbled and proud the same height in a crowd. All watch the parade of a glorious eastern retinue, Who say "Tell us where the newborn King rests with you!” The parade and the crowd seem equally bemused, 'til Herod swoops on the news to see it's refused. Inspired by Matthew 2:1-3 ~Poet of Ephraim

The sun at my right hand as we near the House of Bread, When my love shrieks in a way that freezes us with dread. We stop afar off and lay her down with crowds of questions, Her eyes amiss in pain as we make our blind suggestions. Why does her heart beat so loud? I swear I hear a drum! I'm not losing her, am I? My Lord, what’s going on? She yells giving birth then dies whispering "Ben Oni", O sun of my right hand! What have you taken from me... Inspired by Genesis 35:16-19 ~Poet of Ephraim

What a shrewd man I married! So crafty and smart. By giving nearly all, we're still secure and look the part! Perhaps he tarries long because he's being applauded? I should join his side, gently, then I'll also be rewarded! I don't hear joy or laughter, just whispers and digging, What a peculiar vibe, I wonder if we'll both fit in… When I enter the house I’m frozen by Peter's stare, And shiver down to my soul from the ice in his glare. "Tell me…" Inspired by Acts 5:1-11 ~Poet of Ephraim

Pharaoh now stands when Moses is announced, Abraham’s El has remembered us and pounced! Seeing a blood river would’ve been enough for me, Still he resisted though in stiff-necked blasphemy. Over Goshen’s such peace and inside, cheering! Vigils alive with songs and old stories in hearing. Eager to help, we paint doorposts with innocence, Rejoicing in our El’s salvation and its imminence. Inspired by Exodus 12 ~Poet of Ephraim

A lone melody escapes from the depths of darkness, The earth lies slain, the wind’s pulse heartless. Grand regiments of light march on unceasingly, But bow to the Majesty of Perception increasingly. A chorus builds hurriedly in harmonic dissonance, Green trembles shyly to pale blue's impudence. Now all wait on edge for a glimpse of his highness, And when his red guards rush forth, finally he rises. ~Poet of Ephraim

My friends keep my "Wanted" sign, sentiment changed, Secured in a gold frame, well-inked and still stained. As I roll back into town, I hear their friendly salutations, Like free air between iron bars of friendly allegations. I'll drink what I'm given, in the seat they saved for me, They skim over my travels to coax out an old story. And when they hear it they'll groan "he'll never change", My visage darkened to them, backlit by that frame. ~Poet of Ephraim

The stumbling block for Jews is Messiah’s first arrival, The stumbling block for Gentiles is Paul and the Bible. His letters cleverly reveal your inner heart's condition By how you interpret all the ambiguity within them. If you respect Yahweh's Law then Paul's a confirmation, If you don't, it's like he starts a brand new conversation. And if you quote Paul’s words before the Messiah’s And even over the Creator’s then who do you hold highest? A tribute to the Messiah's most misunderstood apostle.Inspired by 2 Peter 3:15-17, 2 Timothy 3:14-17 ~Poet of Ephraim

If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out. How much more a view that casts the Word into doubt? How much more a desire to conform with the proud? How much more a focus that’s built upon a crowd? If your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off, How much more a hobby that casts the Word from the top? How much more a fist that’s quickly made and slow to stop? How much more a friend who causes a kind heart to rot? Inspired by Matthew 5:29-30, Leviticus 14:43-45 ~ Poet of Ephraim

Trudging through the swap of a miry heart My eyes lift up to pray but fall as I start Watching obstacles with a concentrated stare But my feet get lighter as I stride out my prayer… Now the order of rain has lost its counsel And sorrow's uprising has missed my downfall My call for help was stolen by thanksgiving praise And so I walk on in peace with joyful eyes raised. ~Poet of Ephraim