Quotes about psalm, page 20
The Stones that the Builder Refused
Mother Africa lost her children to the sea
Scattered abroad and sold into slavery
Bound, shackled, and twice chained
Sins of the father has surely remained
Loving families we left behind
Betrayed and Sold by our own kind
These things sometimes makes me upset
Those things I can never ever forget
Like cattle lead to the slaughter
On auction blocks sold as barter
Hated, mistreated, and despised
Made lame, crippled, and then criticized
Battered and bruised dogs set upon
Skin baked in the sun for we are Teflon
In the fields we chanted a psalm
Now we’re told to go back where you came from
Nowhere to go for we no longer belong
Through captivity we’ve remain ever strong
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poem by Wilfred Mellers
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The Valley Of Baca
PSALM LXXXIV.
A brackish lake is there with bitter pools
Anigh its margin, brushed by heavy trees.
A piping wind the narrow valley cools,
Fretting the willows and the cypresses.
Gray skies above, and in the gloomy space
An awful presence hath its dwelling-place.
I saw a youth pass down that vale of tears;
His head was circled with a crown of thorn,
His form was bowed as by the weight of years,
His wayworn feet by stones were cut and torn.
His eyes were such as have beheld the sword
Of terror of the angel of the Lord.
He passed, and clouds and shadows and thick haze
Fell and encompassed him. I might not see
What hand upheld him in those dismal ways,
Wherethrough he staggered with his misery.
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poem by Emma Lazarus
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Advice (‘’Radu’’- in Czech language)
'Sell me this day
Thy birthright.'
(Genesis 25: 31)
'And thou shalt take
Two onyx stones
And grave on them
The names
Of the children of Israel.'
(Exodus 28: 10)
Because
'A good name is better
Than precious ointment'
(Ecclesiastes 7: 1)
And the ' glory
Shall fly away like a bird'
(Hosea 9: 11)
''Then shalt thou
Understand righteousness,
And judgment, and equity;
Yea, every good path
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Saint Augustine cries from his heart
Brothers – sisters – do our years last?
Day by day, they slip away…
those which were, no longer are;
those to come are not yet here.
The former days are past;
the future days are yet to come…
but only to pass away in their turn..
Today exists.. but only in this moment
in which we speak, this moment now…
already, its first hours have passed;
the hours that remain do not yet exist;
they will come, only to fall away
into nothingness…Nothing contains
constancy in itself.
The body does not possess being,
it has no permanence; it changes with age,
it changes with time and place,
it changes with illness and accident..
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poem by Michael Shepherd
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Fresh Fruits of the Spirit - Peace
Peace
Because we have sought the Lord our God, yearning for Him with all our desire, He has given us rest and peace on every side.
And even when we lie down to sleep, You alone, O Lord, will keep us safe.
2 Chronicles 14: 7; Psalm 4: 8, paraphrased
“When people are saying, all is well and secure, and there is peace and safety, then in a moment unforeseen destruction (ruin and death) will come upon them as suddenly as labor pains come upon a woman with child; and they shall by no means escape, for there will be no escape.” 1 Thessalonians 5: 3, AMP
Dear Lord,
These texts are at opposing ends of the spectrum.
Do we need a reality check?
You promise peace, but there is no peace in this world today…
far cry from it.
Yes, we hear peace phrases spoken by both preachers and politicians,
but according to the last text, there is no peace.
So if there is no peace, how do we get this fruit?
My Child,
The only peace you will ever have is in Me.
This world does not offer peace – though it promises you many things.
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poem by Gracie Thompson
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The Celestial Pilot. (From Dante. Purgatorio, II.)
And now, behold! as at the approach of morning,
Through the gross vapors, Mars grows fiery red
Down in the west upon the ocean floor,
Appeared to me,-- may I again behold it!--
A light along the sea, so swiftly coming,
Its motion by no flight of wing is equalled.
And when therefrom I had withdrawn a little
Mine eyes, that I might question my conductor,
Again I saw it brighter grown and larger.
Thereafter, on all sides of it, appeared
I knew not what of white, and underneath,
Little by little, there came forth another.
My master yet had uttered not a word,
While the first whiteness into wings unfolded;
But, when he clearly recognized the pilot,
He cried aloud : 'Quick, quick, and bow the knee!
Behold the Angel of God! fold up thy hands!
Henceforward shalt thou see such officers!
See, how he scorns all human arguments,
So that no oar he wants, nor other sail
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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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For too long I am waiting (in answer to Koos A. Kombuis)
For too long I am waiting
caught in a anthill,
that people call an apartment,
where everyone lives for himself
as if the others do not exist
and music bleats right through the night,
people of another race shamelessly
cavort, whore and drink.
For too long criminals stare at me on the street,
Zimbabweans, Tanzanians and people
from right across Africa sniggers
as if my music system, DVD player and TV
in the lounge belongs to them
and hit with lashing tongues
in French and Portuguese
which here is totally foreign
and I have got to look if an AK-47
is pointing at me
when I drive with my car from the garage.
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poem by Gert Strydom
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God Will Provide A Way Through Faith
God will provide a way through faith,
To all those who sincerely believe,
In the almighty name of Christ Jesus,
As His children we are destined to receive.
Life is full of tests,
Given and graded every day,
Not only by what you do,
Also by what we say.
Jesus is our teacher,
The outline is very clear,
Follow His program closely,
There’s never a reason for fear.
Report cards will be given,
The final grade is on Judgment Day,
There is no need for Cliff’s notes,
Teacher has clearly shown the way.
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poem by Luke Easter
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The Children of the Poor
1
People who have no children can be hard:
Attain a mail of ice and insolence:
Need not pause in the fire, and in no sense
Hesitate in the hurricane to guard.
And when wide world is bitten and bewarred
They perish purely, waving their spirits hence
Without a trace of grace or of offense
To laugh or fail, diffident, wonder-starred.
While through a throttling dark we others hear
The little lifting helplessness, the queer
Whimper-whine; whose unridiculous
Lost softness softly makes a trap for us.
And makes a curse. And makes a sugar of
The malocclusions, the inconditions of love.
2
What shall I give my children? who are poor,
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poem by Gwendolyn Brooks
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In Memoriam—Rev. J. J. Lyons
ROSH-HASHANAH, 5638.
The golden harvest-tide is here, the corn
Bows its proud tops beneath the reaper's hand.
Ripe orchards' plenteous yields enrich the land;
Bring the first fruits and offer them this morn,
With the stored sweetness of all summer hours,
The amber honey sucked from myriad flowers,
And sacrifice your best first fruits to-day,
With fainting hearts and hands forespent with toil,
Offer the mellow harvest's splendid spoil,
To Him who gives and Him who takes away.
Bring timbrels, bring the harp of sweet accord,
And in a pleasant psalm your voice attune,
And blow the cornet greeting the new moon.
Sing, holy, holy, holy, is the Lord,
Who killeth and who quickeneth again,
Who woundeth and who healeth mortal pain,
Whose hand afflicts us, and who sends us peace.
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poem by Emma Lazarus
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