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House of PrayerA building in front of me Looked like a church So I went inside To begin my search... Searching to find If it was blessed or cursed~ Did the people in here love God? Or more- the money in my purse… Constant sounds of murmuring And of senseless strife Would echo off the walls Disrupting my commune With our Lord of Life. Something wrong here Has been sown… And not of our Lord, No- not of His own. If I started to pray … Could God hear me now Or would my words just stop and fall - Something quite similar To the dismal "dropped call." I walk outside Under His sky And breathe deep the air… Sensing He is now Able to receive my prayer. Church buildings will shake that are filled with pride for nothing is hidden that won't be revealed… Are you certain your church Is blessed and Spirit-sealed? Luke 19:46 Saying unto them, It is written, My house is the house of prayer: but ye have made it a den of thieves. Revelation 2:29 He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches. Julie Pisacane © 2007 Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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