No Need…

5/13/22

Category: Beauty, JESUS, Poetry

No need to second guess.

 

Doubting is lacking faith.

But who needs faith

when you’re face to face?

 

Ushered straight to an inheritance

of grace,

we have all eternity

to count to infinity

by the melody of what’s inside His chest

as He pulls us near

to lay our head against His breast.

 

Protective wings have the last say.

Heaven’s netting,

called wind,

carries us away.

 

The rapture,

a first-class ticket

with no stress of delay.

 

Assurance is our permanent address.

 

No need to carry a saber.

 

Streets of gold converge,

a path to reconciliation.

 

Three spoons in one dish,

the culmination

of friendship

with Neapolitan flavor.

 

Former political debaters

and Facebook haters

sheath their swords

of “cancellation”

 

and get the ultimate do-over,

a hard-drive scrub,

the perfect social media experimentation.

 

No need for half-truths.

 

Total Truth sets us free

to live accordingly

to our new nature,

not a Marvel Movies myth

 

but to our spiritual bodies

built to last

without the possibility

of a short fuse

 

and with nothing to lose

but the memory of pain

on a planet of predictable abuse.

 

No need to shave.

 

Perfection is to know

and be known,

 

being accepted

by love shown.

 

Striving ceases

with palms engraved.

 

Thriving is the reason we were saved.

 

Some call it “endangered servitude”

to belong to a Master

and take as our own

His name.

 

This would be true

if all our steps were predetermined

with no road to choose

 

or if He couldn’t stave-off

the stubble growing

on our faces

 

and weeds strangling flowers

in unkept places,

 

but He shows His promise

and power

by being the firstfruits

of the resurrection

and the beatific vision

that awaits those,

who conquer the grave.

 

No need for earthly crowns.

 

Human insecurities,

manifested as holy hand grenades

in sandbox oligarchies

and monarchies,

 

have no space to breathe,

while voices in c-major scream

 

without making a sound.

 

The lust for power

breeds only an hour

 

behind the pulp fiction veil

of a bully’s bark,

turned all the way down.

 

No need for a physician.

 

Embalmed bodies rot in the mire.

Preservation is another name for liar.

 

Resurrection to spiritual perfection

is not just insurance for eternal fire

 

but a blood transfusion

to anemic cells that atrophy.

 

Only the Great Physician

is capable of donating

His own sinless plasma

 

that permanently heals

the blind to see

and the lame to walk

on streets of gold,

 

foretold in Revelation,

the final story,

 

and enter the Utopia

of believers enraptured

with heavenly treasures unfading

and the uncalculating

weight of God’s glory.

3 Comments
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Mariann
Mariann
2 years ago

Nothing like a bite of HEAVEN to start the day!

Sari
Sari
2 years ago

Such a beautiful and inspiring vision of our future home! Love the reminder of the detritus we get to leave behind. Well done!

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