WORK OF THY FINGERS

Grasshoppers, crickets lead the insert parade,

Sure, small but noisy.  They can make the grade

Till in the evening by the lakeside, a cacophony

Of sound, not musical but can nearly see…

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Grows loud near annoying if you let it

Small creatures, tiny a jot or a dit,

Wonderment grows.  How this sound can occur

From these smallish critters, like, thousand or more?

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Do I wonder?  Of course, I wonder plain to deduce

One can hear in the daytime but what is the use?

So much people noise countering, do not you see?

At night when all is quiet, insects feel free–

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To, like, subcounter with noise, it is a natural thing,

Ruling the night hours whatever they bring!

To incessantly render a continuous sound!

Sound then blends smoothly with night all around!

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Sound not interfering with prayerful thought,

If you let it blend in with what He has bought

You!  With the price of His cleansing blood!

Which amounts to a worldwide cleansing flood!

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Invitation comes to plunge in today!

To forgiveness everlasting, He alone could pay!

And pardon with His Calvary death throws,

To everyone who of this death-tree knows–

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His finger spelled out in the dirt that day,

That cruel death for your sins

He would pay!

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“Go and sin no more!”

John 8:4-11

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Sam Cox

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