Peace & Poetry

At dusk doth the devil rage,

Making war against the saints;

Traversing fields of dreams;

Sowing seeds of doubt.

Disrupting spiritual gaze

With subconscious temptations

To deceive and prey.

I pray when I awake

My soul, he not take.

For it is safe in the hands

Of Him whose promise stands,

And none of His are lost.

What need I to fear

The fears of the wicked?

What need I to share

The doubts of the unfaithful?

Is not creation proof

That God’s plan will stand?

Behold the sun in his rising

And the moon in her shining,

Which testify of wisdom so grand;

Passing that which mortals overstand.

Behold the birds that sing

Praises in holy melodies,

Proclaiming the goodness of God.

Truly they are fed

Without worrying within.

Truly they are grounded

Though they float in the wind.

Am not I much better than they?