The clash - a poem

The last few days I’ve been low to the ground

Carrying myself across with my elbows

Whipping past my ear, the missiles resound

Dirt soars up in a blast that rains

Then the Commander gives me a command

Get up. No time to think, my life is in His hands

I stand up and take a stand

And I look the swirling, dark giant in their face

God is swinging a blazing sword of fire and lighting

And it flees before Him

His voice joins the saints that are singing

He goes before us even with my voice hoarse

From yelling praises to reach Him up high

We stand still behind Him and let our songs

beat against fear’s fiery eyes

He goes before us a glorious light

His voice carries creation

At His command the night recognizes His might

And we’re all captured in His presence