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The
hammer that
strikes the
spark
Needs the anvil
that's tempered
right
Pliable iron
that glows in
the dark
Needs tongs to
reveal its
might.
The larvae
before it can
fly
Lies soft,
passive in its
womb
In freedoms
heights it
cannot ply
'Til inherent
power breaks its
doom.
The
child perfect in
the womb
All creations
wonders can
never know
'Til nature
strikes open its
tomb
Launching it
into life's
wonderous flow.
The
mind carefully
learning every
script
Like the
crustacean
out-grows its
shell
Must arise from
its broken crypt
In other realms
it shall
excel.
Don
Murphy©1974-2024
"To
him who overcomes
I will grant to
sit with Me on My
throne, as I also
overcame and sat
down with My
Father on His
Throne."
Rev.
3:21
©1997-2023
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