Poetic Whipers

The dwelling place of God is captured in the effulgence of your life. Your love, which is not of your own, but Christ

You have turn deserts into oasis

You’ve turned the prideful oceans into deserts. You’ve turned the boastings of the pride into silhouette of silence, giving voices of regard to the weak

My eyes have seen the habitations of God among men and this gospel sounds foolishness in the ears of the lost, yet it is the power that make stones sing heavens songs in divine ascent

Such wisdom is high. The rich has left home with empty stomach and the poor is fed with the riches of Zion

The dwelling place of the Spirit is seen everywhere, where men are not restrained by the four walls of a building, peaking through its glass windows

I see yielded men like Holy cathedrals on every street, and their soul is free like birds

How beautiful are the feet of men who carry around, the tales of a loving God in this city. Your face is sapphire and your hands are full of golden mysteries, turning deprived and disappointed men into merchants of life.

You are a dwelling place of the new wine. You serve graciously, unbiased

an instrument of Christ. A workmanship of God. A product that offers boundless life to men, freely, as you’ve received

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