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Sat He there on the huge stone throne

Formed from a single sapphire.

Polished prism's spectra

Blazing hues of blues Larger than life.


Furrowed brows giving way to penetrating eyes

Like flame and fire.

"What?" asked He of the messenger girl,

Who stood in awe and reverence.

"My people want to know how I create

By nothing but my Word?


My Words create.

They, like yours will build

Or destroy.

Words create,

That's what they do.

They also tell, and foretell


Words create good and bad,

Love and hate,

Pain and joy.

" He leaned forward,

"But tell me child,

Why the sudden interest?"


"I don't know."

The messenger said

Shifting her weight

From leg to leg,

Wringing her hands.


The Great God smiled; then He laughed.

"He laughed," said an angel hovering near.

"He laughed," echoed another

And he danced and danced.


The Ancient of Days

With hair as white as wool

Radiating a light

As only He could.

With eyes that burned

Each mask away,

Fixed His stare

On the messenger child.

"Oh dear," said the quivering girl.


"Do not fear," He smiled.

"Sit down child,

And lend an ear."

The messenger girl

Sat down at His feet

And folded her hands

To look very neat.


"My Word," began

The Great I Am,

"Is alive!

Made flesh to give you life

In Him your words are too, alive;

And speak things into being


My Word goes out of my mouth

And does that which I send it to do;

And does not return

Unto Me void.

Nor does yours."

"Mine?" inquired the

Messenger girl.


"Oh, Yes, " said He.

"The tongue is a weapon

None can tame.

It creates a trail of fire,

To burn, to love,

To heal or maim.

A fool's mouth is his destruction;

His lips the snare of his soul.

So, guard your words as you would your life.


Words create love or hate.

And words can enter into contention.

A fool's mouth calls for strokes.

Yes, indeed, death and life are in the

Power of the tongue.


The tongue no man can tame;

Words from it can be unruly, evil,

Full of deadly poison.

With words we bless,

With words we curse.

Like a fountain,

Sweet and bitter water flows.

Judgment, and mercy too,

Can words create.

And a lying tongue

Is one of the six I hate.


As coals are to burning coals,

And wood to fire,

Contentious words cause strife.

But where no talebearer is

With vicious words,

Strife ceases, and peace exudes.


Burning lips from a wicked heart

Potsherd covered with silver dross.

He who hates, dissembles with his words,

And has deceit within.

Remember, child,

His words do not believe.

Even if his words he coats

With a silver tongue,

Flattery will worketh ruin."


Yaweh, who brought all into existence

By nothing but His Word,

Paused awhile.

The messenger girl leaned forward

Would there be more?


"Words can be like

Honey," said He,

"Sweet to the ear

As to the tongue.

Like counsel from above,

First kind,

And easily entreated.

Words drop as rain

Creating good feelings

And happiness,

And bring life and growth

To the human garden.


Words can fill the heart with joy

And words can bruise, and shame

In words, the power for love or hate

And life, and death.


What is talking?

But words exchanged

Creating friendship,

Teaching ,and loving,

Or friction, strife and pain,

And, animosity.


What is writing?

But words written.

Words are everlasting.

One human said it well; Khayyam:

"The moving finger writes, said he,

And having writ moves on

Nor all your piety nor your wit

Can lure it back to cancel half a line

Nor all your tears wash out a word of it."

Even I, the Great I Am,

Cannot these words enhance.


Words can never die

For death is only


Turned inside out."

Then He laughed at my puzzled look.

"He laughed," said an angel.

"He laughed," echoed the other,

And danced and danced.


"Genesis, Chapter one,

You asked about?

I created the earth as all else

By nothing but My Word;

Not to be a wasteful void.

But the gap

Have you not wondered?


See the gap

Between the first and second verse,

Therein lies a great mystery.

Something to talk about.

Jeremiah saw,

And Isaiah, and Ezekiel."

He smiled.

"Eden is the key

To this great mystery.

Take that back with you."


"Might I ask," said the messenger girl

Rising to her feet.

"Who dared to write Genesis?"

"One who dared to believe,

And just like you, received."

The Great One said.


"I speak to those who speak to Me

And answer those who ask of Me.

Look," said He," as you can see,

I sit upon a sapphire

On the circle of the earth.

It's where I laugh.

Columbus read,

And said these words:

If He, God, sits on the circle of the earth…

The earth is therefore …round.

He believed and received,

And did great and mighty things.


Now tell these words to those who ask

Their words too, can speak of love,

And heal a broken heart.

Can calm the seas

And move the mountains.

Yes, because, I have spoken this.

Now, you speak,"

Said He who sat

Upon the great stone throne.



O. J. Graham

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