Entrenched

*Poem and artwork by Eric Verbovszky

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Entrenched in our churches,
walls we’ve built in our searches,
they’ve become our perches.

Not crossing valleys,
stuck in our alleys,
on our way to our rallies.

Afraid of the fog,
drunk from our grog,
aghast at braving the bog,
staggering in our own smog.

Content in our jest,
we call others possessed,
with ourselves most impressed.

Entrenched,
we’re benched,
unable to wrench,
only serving to quench.

Hearts to the Spirit
– a spear right into it –
churches have to submit.
We must commit.
We have to admit.

Though the circus enticed,
the grog and the fog must be sliced.
They simply do not suffice.
They’re not valuably priced.
Our focus must solely be Christ.

God gives us the dove,
with license to love,
a power from above,
to take off the gloves.

Go,
show,
so others can know.

Speak,
seek,
no fear to seem weak.

Share,
care,
words everywhere.

Guide,
beside,
shepherd the countryside.

Teach,
preach,
the Spirit will reach.

 

 

 

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