About the Poem
Have you ever felt as if you're on the front lines of a war, but you can't see your enemy? A spiritual battle so extreme that you realize if you don't become better for it you will surely degenerate into a base thing?
Holy Remnant Rises |
| by Judith Stafford |
| When the palm tree sways, bending to the ground In the wind-powered storm, I recognize The foundation of faith. Tempests surround A tumultuous season. Deceiving lies Haunt and forage deep within scattered souls. Clouds streaked with sunlit rays; obscure, hidden In corruption and unbelief. Warm oil, The Lord's comfort, pleads, desperate to mend Broken warriors; children most royal. In the midst of those clawing and biting Against truth, stand a righteous army cloaked In humility and service; proclaiming Victory despite the dismal blood-soaked Hour. Ragged soldiers release a bold shout And the holy remnant rises devout. |
Want to send the author a private email? If we have a current address, we'll send your message to them for you.
If you especially appreciated this author, we'll be happy to show you where you might find more of their poems