Places 37: Time’s Fullness

Many years ago, after a humble man of God prayed for me, he encouraged me to write and prophetically said that I’d write two poems about trumpets. I’ve wondered if this is one of them.

With feeble cries
against God’s time
Baal’s priests revert to boys;
vast armies turn to toys;
tin soldiers shaking sticks
up at the reddening moon. 

Humble men will bend
before His harvest—
will gather together in glory
to gather in His grain.

Trumpet hope’s call,
“Come! Seek God! and Pray!
Haste! While it’s still day—
lest fearful men will fail
and turn from faith and love again,
shaking dry bones before
the blood red empty moon.

Trumpet while there’s time.
The sun still shines;
the moon still rises and sets,
our daily tides flow wet.

While seasons change
through shaking seas and hearts
God says, “Fear not.”

Help us, Lord, to humbly bow —
before Your judgment seat,
garb us in Your glory.
Deliver us from pride.
Cover us with Jesus blood,
cover us with Holy Love.
When all that will be shaken, shakes,
in You alone we’d hide,
in You alone abide.  

1980, expanded and revised in 2021