When Christ walked upon
this earth as man
nigh two millennium afore
He layed hands upon His
chosen twelve
through whom the river of
truth would pour
Make mine Apostles one,
even as thou and I
this to His Father He
prayed
that the saints not vary
in mind and judgement
for confusion God hath not
ordained
But even as Christ, the
Apostles were martyred
the foundation of
Christianity crumbled
truth befouled by the
precepts of man
harmony amongst the saints
is muddled
Upon the river formed
boundless dams
infinite streams and
tributaries
anglers to cast for truth
and light
oblivious which stream to
ferry
Behold a famine came upon
the land
not of bread nor a thirst
for water
but of the food of life,
the word of God
in the cold of darkess was
man to shudder
Still the gates of hell,
would not prevail
against the church of the
Nazarene
though they turned away,
unto the fables of man
a restoration of all
things was foreseen
In the dispensation of the
fulness of times
He would gather together
in one
all truths to be found in
all the faiths
as well as those that have
been changed or shunned
And"another
angel"did fly in the midst of heaven
preaching the everlasting
gospel to man
to every nation and
kindred, and tongue and people
restoring the food of life
- God's word - to all lands
It is the truth spoken of
in Psalms, that shall spring forth out of the earth
It is a sacred record of
Christ ministering to the other sheep
It is the voice from
Isaiah that shall be as one with a familar spirit
It is the quiet whisper
from out of the dust in which truth had found sleep
It is the stick of Joseph,
in the hand of Ephraim and the tribes of Israel
With the stick of Judah,
they shall become one in thine hand
It is the Book of Mormon
and the Holy Bible
An interwoven testament of
Christ, a twofold witness to man
The Bible is a sacred
record from the Holy Land
the Book of Mormon, of the
early inhabitants of the Americas
for"Joseph is a
fruitful bough, whose branches run over the wall"
and they to shall hear His
word, for of they to are prophets called
As we scurry through the
gauntlet of life
and hardships come our way
pray we have strength to
meet life's trials with such courage
as Prophet Joseph in
restoration's early day
Driven from New York,
Ohio, Missouri and Illinois
tarred and feathered and
left for dead
far from the family he
loved
only for they, a tear did
he shed
In the face of such
hardships
the Lord's kingdom was
restored
the Book of Mormon was
given man
the voice of ancient
prophets
whispering out of the dust
buried for centuries under
rock, soil and sand
Though a mob with painted
faces
the prophets life they did
take
the Lord's work would
continue on
building up the kingdom of
God
in every corner of the
earth
praising God in prayer,
deed and song
the fourteen year old boy
beseeching the Father in
prayer
loved by many, yet hated
by scores
still his love for man was
pure
Joseph, the Prophet and
seer
Men preach a God - devoid
body, parts or passion
such a deity I do not know
for out of supreme love
God created man - in His own image created He him
sowing passion within the
depths of man's soul
Yet flesh hath created a
medly of Gods
by man's reason created
they them
a God to favor his every
petition
giving blessing to man's
every whim
When I glance upon God's
living waters
I know the image that
glances back at me
hath great love for the
Father - that created man
not a formless God created
by me
ETERNAL FLAME
(inspired by the October 04 General Conference
talk of Elder Neal B RouechA of the seventy)
Deep within the soul of every man
burns a flame of goodness, virtue and morality
a desire to see good triumph over evil
though often only a flicker, this incandescent
spirituality
Pacified and lulled away "into carnal
security"
the flame lingers - unkindled
it's diminishing warmth and radiant glow
standing idle, slowly dwindles
Awakened by a subtle seed of verity
a spark of truth causeth the flame to flail
irradiating a thirst for light eternal
bidding the Holy Spirit a heart to dwell
Nurtured by the blessed gospel of Christ
the flicker fosters an unflinching fire
igniting the testimony of the spirit
a witness to God's love, His perfection to
aspire
Still the flame must forever be kindled
gradually illuminating the fullness of truth
like the gardener raising beautiful flowers
constant nourishment ensures blooms of gospel
truths
The Saints Came Home
The Prophet is dead, the Prophet is dead
like a scorching branding iron blistering the
soul
the words burned deep an aching void
away from their beloved Nauvoo
with wounded spirits the saints must go
Hundreds of homes and farms aflame
savage mobs on horseback - terror to rein
the stench of gun smoke filling every vein
to an unknown far-away land, the saints must go
T'would not be a journey of sadness and tears
but a trek of hope beyond the reach of enemy and
fear
thirteen-hundred agonizing miles in two years
o'er the plains and Continental
divide the saints would go
At the mercy of a frigid unforgiving winter
on foot, handcart or wagon their faith not
wavered
for ahead lay freedom to worship without
surrender
on to Zion the saints must go
The ordeal would bring out the good and bad
revealing strength and courage many knew not
they had
each step carrying them further from the evil
and mad
only faith to lead the way, the saints must go
The changing seasons bred weather of all
extremes
promising hundreds of miles of suffocating dust
and disease
violent thunderstorms, sickness that only death
did ease
in axle deep mud they would fall to their knees
onward the saints must go
Though hundreds would die along The Mormon Trail
graves without headstones testament to faith
without fail
knowing loved ones rested in the Savior's arms
caused hearts to swell
pushing onward the saints would go
To the sound of cracking whips and squeaking
wagon wheels
comes cries of newborn, new hope and zeal
for at journeys end lay the promise of a home -
the young to shield
pressing on the saints must go
At Big Mountain they spied a glimps of the
prophesied valley
a sight outweighing all the suffering the
journey had tallied
just down the hill lay peace and rest in the
Salt Lake Valley
for to Zion the saints came home
The Saints Came Home
The Prophet is dead, the Prophet is dead
like a scorching branding iron blistering the soul
the words burned deep an aching void
away from their beloved Nauvoo
with wounded spirits the saints must go
Hundreds of homes and farms aflame
savage mobs on horseback - terror to rein
the stench of gun smoke filling every vein
to an unknown far-away land, the saints must go
T'would not be a journey of sadness and tears
but a trek of hope beyond the reach of enemy and
fear
thirteen-hundred agonizing miles in two years
o'er the plains and Continental
divide the saints would go
At the mercy of a frigid unforgiving winter
on foot, handcart or wagon their faith not wavered
for ahead lay freedom to worship without surrender
on to Zion the saints must go
The ordeal would bring out the good and bad
revealing strength and courage many knew not they
had
each step carrying them further from the evil and
mad
only faith to lead the way, the saints must go
The changing seasons bred weather of all extremes
promising hundreds of miles of suffocating dust
and disease
violent thunderstorms, sickness that only death
did ease
in axle deep mud they would fall to their knees
onward the saints must go
Though hundreds would die along The Mormon Trail
graves without headstones testament to faith
without fail
knowing loved ones rested in the Savior's arms
caused hearts to swell
pushing onward the saints would go
To the sound of cracking whips and squeaking wagon
wheels
cames cries of newborn, new hope and zeal
for at journeys end lay the promise of a home -
the young to shield
pressing on the saints must go
At Big Mountain they spied a glimpse of the
prophesied valley
a sight outweighing all the suffering the journey
had tallied
just down the hill lay peace and rest in the Salt
Lake Valley
for to Zion the saints came home
