In God’s image we were created.
In the image He would assume.
If He were physically inclined
As He was when from the tomb,
“Touch me not!” He ordered Mary,
When as Spirit yet as seen
“I have not as yet ascended.”
Meaning, I am not what I seem.
In this sense would she experience shock,
Not feeling matter there?
Of course! Try to imagine…
See! But feeling only air!
As at His transfiguration,
Could be seen but just brightness
Never blinded the eyes of the three with Him
For the sheer whiteness!
Could appear any likeness desired,
But ever recognizable!
As Jesus, Master, Savior, God!
Just none other beside!
In the very image of God as
Spirit, yet mortal when
Mortal puts on immortality,
We will be like Him then.
We shall see Him as He is for
In His image! Remember?
Created in the image of God!
Holy! Then! No more sin!
The master of sin incarcerated,
Blackness of sin, his home!
Certainly he will love it there!
But nevermore to roam!
Free of the tempter! How will that feel?
No more the evil thoughts to
Contaminate, forgotten, observe
Delusions, all forgot!
Completeness of God’s presence, observe
Nevermore to roam alone!
Never trudge weary steps, God walks with me.
But thoughts ramble, I am prone
To think of a thousand thoughts at one time.
Hard to centralize, devise
Ways to centralize one thought alone,
Then think of Jesus and Him alone.
Connect the thoughts, what now see
One thought permanent, that He died,
Rose, and LIVES for me!
Matthew 17:2 and Mark 9:2
Sam Cox 09.04.10