The Idol
It
lies silent, never-moving;No embrace within the heart,
Just captivity through the endless day.
The pulse quickens with joyful intent
But leaving the soul with discontent.
It
gleams bright, enticing, but cold-
A
block of wood or melted metal,Nothing to withstand the test of fire;
Nothing remaining to inspire;
The smile fads into despair-
The desire was there to ensnare.
A
price to pay!
The
sacrifice of soul-Worship of silver & gold;
Wasn’t that foretold?
Love
misplaced,
Treasures
lying in waste; Calamity falls,
And no one calls.
The
idol sits silent, unconsoling,
Gleaming
bright, enticing, but cold;A beauty to behold-
Desired, heart invading,
Yet burning, rotting, fading.
Where is the essence of being?
All are fleeing.
Mary Crisp Jameson – 2/6/2015
Isaiah 42: 8 “I am the Lord; that is my name! I will not yield
my glory to another or my praise to idols. 17 But those who trust in
idols, who say to images, ‘You are our gods,’ will be turned back in utter
shame.
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