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Gathering Up His Wheat
by Deborah Ann Belka Oh, the empty husks of grain, separated from the mighty stalk; are being tossed to and fro, by the winds of wayward talk. The chaff is but a barren skin, covered in a lifeless shell; and so it gathers on the wind, those whom it can take to hell. The grains of doubt grow wild, and spreads like a searing fire; testing the flames of hell, with the blaze of man's desire. The chaff breaks up the wheat, by shifting the heart on the vine; stirring up dissent with its lies, and mixing water with the wine. Don't get caught up in the winds, where the truth is blown away; lest you fall from His grace, and be left behind one day. For the winnowing fork is in His hand, and there'll be threshing on the floor; He'll gather His wheat up in the air, and leave the chaff at hells door! Copyright 2019 Deborah Ann Belka [email protected] www.hiswingsshadow.com http://poetrybydeborahann.wordpress.com/ TO GOD BE THE GLORY! Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |