GLORY

Gently, blowing trees

In a soft, swaying breeze

Play host to blinking fireflies

As the mystical twilight dies

Myriads of miniature glowing beacons 

Signaling to their mates

Rapturous joy of the mind

Such a scene unforgettably creates

As the sweet odor of honeysuckle

Fills the night air

I cast my eyes skyward to behold

The dazzling stars that are there

By the Word of the Lord were the Heavens created

And man upon the earth

By the Word, He has glorified Himself in all creation

And in those who have received the new birth

Truly the blackness of night,

Brings forth the glory of light

Just as the darkness of sin,

Glorifies God in those who have been born-again

And it is not of one's own will

Such a new birth comes about

But by God's choice only 

Surely there can be no doubt

Nothing within ourselves

Of which to boast

But only through His mercy

Are we spared that Eternal roast!

Made to inherit the throne of glory are the meek

those raised up from the dust, those that are poor

While God confounds the minds of the mighty

Who consider His Word merely foolish folklore

But this was His plan

Right from the start

To blind the minds of many

While to others, His knowledge to impart

To create light in the midst of darkness;

His glory to manifest

While the souls of the proud and mighty

Never find His rest

I am the Lord, that is My name

My glory I will not share 

I, who create the darkness and light

To whom shall you compare?

Photo and poem By Cynthia Holwick (2002)

The Tongue

My tongue is like a wild beast,

Seeking to pounce upon my spirit

And hungrily feast

It can quickly get me into

A whole lot of trouble

Like my driveshaft being stuck up

In a large mud puddle!

Remember, a soft answer turns away hostility

Even generating friendship in all probability

But grievous words stir up strife

Which may endanger limb, or even life

Give not that which is Holy unto dogs

Nor cast your pearls of wisdom before hogs

Speak not in the ear of fools

Lest they trample thee to death,

Then feed upon they flesh like ghouls!

Thus, the tongue can be a blessing

Or a real, bad curse

Bringing deliverance and life

Or a ride in a hearse!

Photo and poem By Cynthia Holwick (1998)

The Future Glory of Zion

Who is like our God?

Can He be compared?

There is no other like Him

Of Whom can be feared

For He has laid out the Heavens

With His outstretched hands

And has rebuked with His mouth

All the inhabitants of the land

Who can frustrate our God?

For many carry out their evil plans

Unbeknowst to them our Maker

Has subdued them all in His hands

Many our the purposes of the Lord

and by His sovereignty will prevail

For He has brought us vindication

And has made us the head, not the tail

Are you in a valley?

A quarry that has become a rut?

Lift up your eyes to the Heavens

Look to the Rock from whence you were cut

Do not be terrified of insults

Nor fear the reproach of men

For our God protects His people

Like helpless chicks to a hen

Awake and arise, clothe yourself with strength

Remember the days of old

When He parted your Red Sea

In which His glory was told

Stretch forth your tent

And enlarge your place....

For surely God has promised Zion

The radiance of His face

He will comfort you 

And regard your ruins with compassion

He will make your desert like Eden

And plenty will be your ration

Behold, He is making new things

And before they spring into being,

He will announce them to you

Soon you will be seeing......

Springs of gladness like living waters

That bound your memory of tears

For your heart will throb and swell with joy

And comfort will replace your fears

Oh sing, all you who are barren

And remember your shame no more

For the Lord your maker is your husband

And regards the needy and poor

Through the mountains be shaken

And the hills be removed

Yet, will His unfailing love

Covenant with you and never be subdued!

Photo and poem By Cynthia Holwick (2001)