The Harvest…

 

2127296293_5df46c3710There was something deep inside of me
that had my spirit tired and weak.
As i searched for seeds to plant
For I knew not where to seek..
It’s not a vegetable or things
like a flower,shrub or tree
it’s the seeds of what the Bible says
must be grown “inside” of me.
For many years i prayed to find
the seeds to plant them one by one
But no matter what i asked in prayer
His answer did not come..
Every day for years i listened for
a word or thought of signs of where
I could find the seeds that God
wanted me to plant out there..
Then just the other day I was
sitting silent on a hill alone
and the thought came to me
I’d planted seeds now grown…
What i didn’t see was in front of me
my family ,old friends and then
I thanked him for His answer that
I know had come from Him..
My thoughts became much stronger as
I saw seeds one by one….
come to my mind like bright sunshine
Shedding light on things “already done.”.
Now i know when God says to plant
seeds and let them grow..
he’s talking about the little things
Of life we reap because we sow..

~ by connetta on August 11, 2009.

7 Responses to “The Harvest…”

  1. Genesis 27:27 And HE came NEAR and KISSED him: and HE SMELLED THE SEMLL of his RAIMENT, and BLESSED him, and said, SEE, THE SMELL OF MY son is as the SMELL OF A FIELS WHICH THE LORD HATH BLESSED.

    Song of Solomon Chapter 3:4 It was but a little that I passed from them(the liars, and those who deceve us, beliving in a false god–the worlds beliefs, the control of the creature, the work of their hands, and not the Creator that created them with one breath Ecc.3:18-19) Yes, It was but a little that I passed from them, but I found Him whom my soul loveth: I held HIM, and would not let HIM go, until I had brought HIM into my MOTHER’S House, and into the #chamber of her that *conceived me.

    Job 33:4 The SPIRIT of G-D *made me(#earth)…but the Breath of the ALMIGHTY gives me life. HIM –the ALMIGHTY G-D of HEAVEN, came into my MOTHER –THE SPIRIT OF G-D–EARTH, and conceived me, a holy child. This is our second breath. Make sure you have one before you take you last here on earth. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, but Spirit to spirit. Sin, turned us out, putting sin out and laboring here on earth, draws G-D near, get the Eternal kiss.

  2. Connie,
    Please contact me by email.
    Al

  3. I’m glad this poem touched people in a creative way..It’s a little scarry sometimes to write what I feel and trust to share it with others..Especially about God.
    Mr Hubbs,
    how will you ever out do your last book? I still read it over and over, it inspires me and makes me smile. People need to start taking note of living poets..
    I will fondly await your new work..and thank you for taking time to read mine..That poem is a baby, just wrote it a few weeks ago.so maybe iam improving, BUT reading poetry by great poets -is the best way to grow….thanks for being there for me..
    I admire you too 94…glad you enjoyed these poems and they inspired you..

  4. Hi Connie,
    what you wrote reminded me of that phrase – goodness knows where it comes from: ‘there is nothing new under the sun’ – somehow the same themes reappear, over and over again, down the ages.
    Do you know the Joan Osbourne song? here are the lyrics:
    If God had a name, what would it be
    And would you call it to his face
    If you were faced with him in all his glory
    What would you ask if you had just one question

    And yeah yeah God is great yeah yeah God is good
    yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

    What if God was one of us
    Just a slob like one of us
    Just a stranger on the bus
    Trying to make his way home

    If God had a face what would it look like
    And would you want to see
    If seeing meant that you would have to believe
    In things like heaven and in jesus and the saints and all the prophets

    And yeah yeah god is great yeah yeah god is good
    yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

    What if God was one of us
    Just a slob like one of us
    Just a stranger on the bus
    Trying to make his way home
    He’s trying to make his way home
    Back up to heaven all alone
    Nobody calling on the phone
    Except for the pope maybe in rome

    And yeah yeah God is great yeah yeah God is good
    yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

    What if god was one of us
    Just a slob like one of us
    Just a stranger on the bus
    Trying to make his way home
    Just trying to make his way home
    Like a holy rolling stone
    Back up to heaven all alone
    Just trying to make his way home
    Nobody calling on the phone
    Except for the pope maybe in rome

  5. You already know how I feel about poetry, and this meets all my criteria of what I feel makes a good poem. I loved the image this creates, The rhyme scheme was excellent, and the meter was easy to follow as I read it. I realize this is only my opinion, but I think it shows a maturity in your writing.The mechanics of this piece do not show, and as Shakespeare said, “the art is to conceal the art” you did this very well.
    I have just put the finishing touches on my second book of poems, and as soon as I have a rough printing I’ll send you a copy.

  6. 94
    your poem reminds me of a old friend..”A Poets Dream”, i wrote it in the early 80’s…

    A POETS DREAM

    While waiting for a bus
    there came a man
    dressed in dirty cloths
    and a 3 day beard
    “pardon me” he said
    “May i bother you
    for fare to town?”
    while as we road along
    i inquired
    where he might be from
    and he replied
    “the Lord sent me
    just to take this ride”
    the people on the bus
    began to laugh
    and whisperd that the man
    must be insaine
    some looked as if to mock Him
    and as i watched them
    the thought went thrugh my mind
    that jesus came
    dressed much like he…
    i turned to see
    the stranger dissapered
    and as my mind cleared
    i realized i’d had
    a poet’s dream…

  7. MEETING MY LORD

    When I went to visit the house of my lord
    I found myself wandering
    through empty rooms –
    no-one was there.
    At the bottom of the garden, I found
    an old man in a battered hat –
    clearing brambles, I think.

    He answered my query by shaking his head:
    the master whom I sought
    apparently no longer lived there.
    And I had certainly not
    travelled all that way

    just to see a gardener.

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