Trinity Forest



 
The crashing boom when but a tiny
      acorn in the forest falls,
is just as loud as that which in the mind
      is heard each time God calls -
And rustling leaves within the trees,
      their deafening roar is likened to,
the sound within a soul each time
      the Holy Spirit passes through.
Each time a blade of grass is bent
     the screech of fibers torn apart
is heard by God, who also hears
     the screams of every broken heart.
The gentle winds that sway the flowers,
     as blossoms clatter to and fro,
crescendos in the ears of those
     who hear the Gospel's message flow.
Rippling, bubbling, babbling brooks
     that flow through fields of buttercups
become the rushing sound of
     living waters when He fills our cup.
From distant hills birds echo trills;
     God hears their vibrant choral song,
and just the same He tries to tame
     our conscience - whistling right and wrong.
The forest brings forth many sounds
    that often ears will never hear;
the same is true of souls not listening
     every time that God draws near.
Now picture deep within the forest
     of the souls of all mankind,
the thirsting, yearning, dry, forsaken
     spiritual drought is what we find.
And if a tiny drop came splashing
     into each ‘twould cause a flood,
if not a drop of rain, but crashing
     came a drop of Jesus' Blood!
Poems by Ron Baron

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