Pondering God

A wondrous world that I see, the firmament reveals His might;

It overcomes my sense of touch, of smell, of sight.

Animals go about their day, feeding on that provided;

Each one in its own way, yet somehow not divided.

The birds that fly and deer that run frolic in God’s creation;

Day by day they make their way, somehow without cessation.

The morning comes, as night does too, marking another day;

I wake and sleep, always reminded to give thanks and pray.

It is God who’s owed for all He does, for all that I can know;

I seek His face and read the Word, that I may live and grow.

Wondrous things do I read, tragedies both great and small;

I ponder them in times of old, my mind that it might grow tall.

Each one a must for me to sow among those less enlightened;

I dream and think and view the day with a heart not swayed nor frightened.

A time must come for everything, according to the Word;

My Lord’s return I know is near, within His mouth a sword.

Christ came to seek and save before, Salvation to impart;

Soon again will He come, to examine every heart.

To separate His alone and destroy all wicked men;

Nations, kingdoms, important folks—all will fall in front of Him.

His anger poured in righteousness in every house and hall;

Blood so deep the horses swim; many slain and crushed will fall.

A verse recalled from my favorite hymn, I share the words in poem:

I pray your heart prepares for this day, and everyday that comes.

That you seek to be a holy child, and desire each moment to know Him;

That this world has no hold on you, that your heart does not grow dim.

Mine eyes have seen the Glory of the coming of our Lord;

He is stamping out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored.

This wine Christ pressed will be poured out, to cleanse this world of sin;

Wrath and fury from the throne of God upon iniquity and wicked men.

Wicked wail and gnash their teeth in a prison made for Satan,

and countless wicked hearts of men, eternity forsaken.

Christ’s Children will dwell in paradise free from fiery darts;

In a place so grand beyond that of men His Glory will impart.

No darkened weight of sadness there, where praise the angels sing:

“Holy, Holy, Holy” echoes to our Lord and King!

Kenneth Kellar
A Man Called by God to Teach and Disciple