Jan 26, 2014
He placed them upon lips of seasoned utter.
He clothed them upon the exploited woman.
She was once vulnerable from the character of evil illusion.
Until she mirrored a state of wondrous conclusion.
Who shall not suffer? In his grace be buffered and
ready to spear with his divine words.
Today, she marches onward, though knocked down and
bruised by unclean ties and spiteful eyes.
They have not understood the final destination of God's greatest plan.
His kingdom ostracized in this blinking land.
The woman sits under tree limbs, plucking graceful leafs.
Her soul being renewed, made bright to guide the birds.
She is a tool, a prime example of perseverance
with or without man in her dawning hours.
She knows she has a perfect leader in all creatures.
He is the one who cleans up a foul spirit and gives out joyful gifts.
Now this woman is open to prophesy and
using her gentle hands to dissect the dark from the light.
And through testy obstacles still able to claim her blessings.
She has washed her confessions in the blood of lamb.
O' rich taste of sacrifice has touched her loins.
Still, today she stands a firm testimony that prances in sincere dance.
For if it was his deliverance that bore her sins.
It was his grace that rained upon her individual atmosphere.
She is proud to be lost in the faith, peace calming the refiguring of a worn mind.
At that moment her divine purpose was cored.
This is but her giant step for mankind.
Her Father images in times of wind, rain, heat and cold.
"Don't give in my child, keep… keeping on…
Her mornings anointed in the Truth, even when
the converter tries and turn her soul around.
Planted are the feet of a woman homeward bound.
For the salt is in her and unseen in the latter days.
Every morning pours the oil upon her bed in a spiritual calling.