Alien in the midst,
called to bea seasoning of salt,
a light purifying;
To be in, not of
this place, this field
of groaning, aching wheat
seeking its harvest;
salt, light, in not of,
seeking, harvest yet
safe in the hiding place
while moving unhidden:
where wisdom is taught.
This poem is submitted for the Warrior Poet Circle, hosted by Jason Stasyszen at Connecting to Impact. To see other submitted poems based on the prompt of “hidden in God,” please visit the site.
Photograph by Nancy Rosback. Used with permission.
Love that title bro'...the poem sings like a psalm!
Very nice. We certainly are a walking contradiction.
Very nice -- and it does roll into the mind like a psalm.
Great title--great words. "Alien in the midst." Nice.
ahhh. the tension. [groan]
This is beautiful Glynn - the paradox of life in Christ.
My all time favorite by you.
I do feel alien, home in the Lord, yet not home. It's hard to describe. But you capture it well.
What a sweet prayer from a spirit who is working it out in the words between the worlds. - Brendan
Beautiful way to describe it, Glynn. Thank you.
love the imagery of groaning, aching wheat... a beautiful whisper of his grace in this, friend. thank you.
"Aching wheat seeking its harvest." That's good stuff, Glynn. Thanks for posting.
We Western Christians are not very good with paradox, are we? That's why I am loving poetry so much - it's one way to capture paradox in words, and get away with it as beautiful.
Nice poetry, man.
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