Second City Vision

This dry and barren city.
                                         This Northern Nineveh  
A man might walk
                                          From heart to edge
In one single signal day.
                                          Here are worshipped
Idols, wood and stone
                                          Gold and silver.
Here are fashioned
                                          Weapons of war.
Here is poverty
                                          Haunted by violence.
There is affluence
                                          Afraid of the poor.
Here is a melting pot
                                          Of all the worlds' races
There is a nightmare
                                          Of blood on the streets.
And there are preachers
                                           Pouring out God's Spirit and Word
Fuel on a sun-dried fire.


O for a match,
                                            A windborne spark!
A prophet of God
                                            Who has burned
Repentance 
                                            On his heart.
A spirit touched by coal
                                            From the high altars of heaven.
A city turned to God,
                                            A blazing fire.
In the rich West
                                            God's heart for the poor.
And the rich are so poor,
                                             His heart is even for them.
A city,
                                             A whole and holy city,
Blazing with Christ's love.



 © G. I. Goodson 18.2.88 All rights reserved. This copyright over-rules the Creative Commons copyright. No permissions granted.