So, how do we know that we're really free,
and what's in this measure we use to see?
Man's ego can rule creating a maze,
mist in a bottle that's blending a haze.
Emotions can guide us twisting our minds,
in essence confusion bringing down blinds.
So how can we change our miscreant souls,
that blend with a sandstorm twisting our roles.
Just how can we trust these chaotic hearts
delinquent in nature, rebels in part?
Can I trust feelings; these wise thoughts collect,
what's this within me...God's wisdom select?
If I'm expecting, will truth break hope's banks.
streams of pure wisdom play non-gracious pranks?
So why do I doubt? God's grace I am sure,
filled with compassion His heartbeat is pure.
R.Owen 1/08/2020
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Author Notes
This Poem is the incumbent doubt that mars men's thoughts. God has planted enough rational certainly, that causes me to trust like a child, because I've chosen to, faithfulness is not being double minded, even when faith flies in the face of doubt. Don't worry God still reassures.
Habakkuk 3:17-18 "Thought the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be on the vines; the labour of the olive may fail, and the fields will yield no wheat; the flock shall cut off from the fold, and there shall no herd in the field.. Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my saviour."
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