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Poetry of Gary Bertnick
How wicked is wicked,
More than barbaric
Evil that rules one nation
Trail of tears and misery
People entombed as they come and go
Dead as they rise up and sit down.
Darkness walks this land
Many women wounded, deep scars of guilt
Lies as a thick atmosphere
Deceit the air we breath
Great shadows remain in the pain of condemnation.
Fallen, a tribe, a language, a dollar, a people,
Nation that destroys new life
The smallest, most innocent child
Most vulnerable, purest expression
Baby seed of the very gift of life,
There is a judge and there is justice
Such nations destined for fire
A culture of death, a country of greed
In the blinding face of true justice.
Now held accountable.
The time is short
Needs are great everywhere
Kingdom trumpets sound in the distance
Resonate in the ears,
Banners of the armies out front
Banners of truth and power and authority,
Written words pulse with power
Glow with colors of majesty
Royal gold and silver, flashes of purple and crimson;
Even stars across the sky portray the same
Conflict among people, conflict between kingdoms
Divine authority established by force.
Seven eyes gaze throughout the earth
Heaven sees all,
The injustice of Islam, confusion of religions, the Nicolaitans,
Eyes penetrate every mind and soul
Know the future with infinite detail
Remember the past the same
Fully consumed with the present.
God of the Universe marches in front
The First Born always leads the battle
Heaven and earth tremble with His every step,
Sword of the Spirit very sharp
Cuts swiftly, precisely to the heart
Lays bare every act, every motive
Every careless word in the balance
Nothing hidden from His sight.
The armies of righteousness strike fearlessly
Swiftly like a sudden hammer blow driving in a nail
Come together, join as one
Vast cloud of chosen ones
Whitest Spirit white, a parade across the sky
Triumphant flock that moves peacefully through the heavens
Lifted mercifully from this common earth
Separated from death and destruction;
True peace rules the few, earth remnant
Confidence sails from above-
In famine, bread in abundance;
In driest desert, streams of fresh water;
Near shallow pools of human filth and violence
Yet, clean, unspotted garments and minds.
Souls always renewed
Heads lifted high
Salvation draws near
On this good day of trust.
Another sip from the heavenly cup
Another step forward in life
In separation, sanctified, set apart,
Closer to the true Lord and His Kingdom,
Deeper into the well of water springing up
Bread of Life held in strong common hands
One prayer of faithfulness, one new day at a time.
Hands of love are always held out,
As a small child's stumbling grows into the strides of a man,
A sacred aroma moves about peacefully
The fragrance of life soothing, calming,
Draws the human spirit close
Draws the heart and soul near
Comforts any person worn down, burdened
Poorly treated, worn out by this world,
Rejected forcefully, abandoned by even family, friends
As outcasts, pushed aside;
A dirty blanket of poverty tossed over them
Now hidden away, out of sight, forgotten
Kept from eyes too sensitive, too self-enlightened, more sacred than others
Where worship is worship of self,
Human effort alone sits enthroned with a deceitful smile.
But, as each good morning awakens with new light
The atmosphere of lies, of dark clouds melts away
Then suddenly evaporates;
The world and those whose portion is in this life
Fade much as the morning mist
A thin vapor in the Holy Light of the warm new morning sunshine.
Into the Arms
A gentle stride with a tender heart
He walks along the narrow country road
He hikes up the scenic trails
From high places eyes see very far
Penetrate deeply into the heart and spirit
Hearing beyond the senses,
Seeing beneath the common earthly layers;
Most others sense his difference
An odd unease moves them
Eyes turn from those eyes
As dry lips from a fresh pool of water,
Cracked lips from a cool spring;
Without understanding and clear reason
An urge for distance, an anxious need for separation,
Instant rejection without any words
An unspoken threat wells up
Unease churns the gut
Division sharper than any sword
Invisible cut of the Spirit.
Good seal on one, but not the other;
"Mark of the Beast", the fruit of all hatred,
Waits viciously in the wings.
When fear breathes down our necks
Icy hand grips the child's mind,
Even friends and family
Turn to betray;
Poverty of hunger and thirst stalks this fallen land
Faith in God,
Belief in the Holy Words
Tested beyond all imagined human strength.
Cries and tears of endurance
Forced on the faces of many "Jobs", rise up,
Perseverance of Elijah in this cold, harsh place.
Police state, fascist perversion,
Many slave prison camps spring up as poison mushrooms;
Heaven as hard as the new scorched desert earth.
We run into the arms of our Father
Small the gate, narrow the road
Chosen cross of Messiah, the cup we now drink.