Sunrise’s Serenade.

eternal love.
a psalm of Ephraim.

I was postered by four impregnable walls –

Sin, law, death and my mind,

And indeed your love is a consuming fire

That singed the former three walls to cinders

And refined, renewed and restored my mind

To behold your love, your face for what it truly is,

A love without corners or circumference!

You are my everlasting sunrise!

You have made my night a distant nightmare

And eradicated my fears with Your light.

If darkness were cockroaches,

You banished them far away from me 

With Your light.

Darkness did not prevail against you.

Instead you spoke light into my dark,

Life into my dead heart,

So from that day,

No wall could ever stand between us,

You made sure you gave me a heart

With your own signature mark.

And from that day 

The love song to me never stopped,

You serenade me at daybreak, 

All through the day and at noon!

You promised me that this love is to here to stay.

I believed you and I received all of you,

Now this is our everlasting honeymoon.

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Painting: “Smile of the Sunrise” Marie Green

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For a while, something was wrong, something just not right.
And the more I tried to ignore it, the worse it got.
I would spend time with Him and yet afterwards it would never feel like enough – the hours would feel like mere seconds and every passing minute without Him felt like an eternity bygone.
I was lovesick and my only antidote was to have all of Him and be with Him.

Of Ephraim. A Psalm.

My heart is heavy and pines for Him.

The iris of my heart tosses and tumbles out of focus

When I am away from the Lover and maker of my heart.

For with His tender touch and His hand of grace,

He quickly chips and chisels away at the infirmities of life that have collected on my heart like dust on this narrow road.

O how my heart skips a beat at the thought of the Lover.

O how He quenches my every thirst when I open up the curtains of my heart to His knocking.

O how my answer to His knocking is my emptying before His feet.

Taste and see how sweet the air of His robes of righteousness are

And how soft the garments of His bearings are to my cheeks

O how lovely His whisper is to my ear

And O how capturing His gaze into my gaze of Him is.

I have left all the burdens of my shoulders before Him

And He has swatted away and reduced them all to peace.

So all that remains is

His love that first loved me

And now my love for Him who loved me first.

I was and am lovesick.


“Sustain me with cakes of raisins,
Refresh me with apples,
For I am lovesick.”

Song of Solomon 2:5

How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable seem to me all the things of this world.


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Parable of the Two Helpers.

Of Ephraim.
What sweetens your tooth and what entices your tongue?
A parable for the end times.

Listen child.
Close your eyes
And incline your ears.
This is a tale of two helpers
Both kind to their causes,
Both warm to their own clauses.

Consider the first,
(His clause saying take),
Short in stature
But intimidating in tone
Nevertheless, he always gives you all you desire:
Sweets your parents always forbade you from,
Toys uncles told you you did not need
And garments friends told you were too expensive.
He gives it all.

Now consider the second,
(His clause saying come),
Meek in nature,
Tall in height –
So tall my neck bends back in awe –
His face too bright for even the Sun to see.
His voice an irresistible enticement
His present containing far beyond what I need,
Filling me up till His wants become mine.

Now, search your heart child
And pose yourself this question:
What has been sweetening your tongue,
The forbidden fruit
Or the fruit of the Spirit?
Do you feast on the cursed fig tree
Or the Tree of Life?
Are you a child of gluttony
Or a child of wholeness?
Only one helps satisfy the soul,
Only one helps kill the flesh, child.
Choose wisely,
For the LORD is coming.


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“No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will be loyal to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.”
Matthew 6:24


Parable of the Two Lakes.

A parable for the end times.
Of Ephraim.

Thus the voice of the LORD depicted to me on the sixth day of the tenth month of the year of the open heavens – to I, Ephraim, a soldier for Christ:

Deeper into this garden of my heart
Lay two lakes
At the end of the path
That forks in two;
Both paths narrow, hardly ridden or stepped foot upon.
One lake in all its beauty
With a towering willow tree
At its centre,
The nucleus and the heart
The lure and invitation of every beautiful mammal
Named under the Sun.
Life is easy,
Life is good,
Life is what I want it to be
Under this tree.

Consider now the second lake,
It too at its centre with a tree.
It has not the roars
And the hustle and bustle of the
Many mammals of the other lake
It has not the same shine of the Sun
Glaring down upon it
But it possesses a different light
That many do not recognise
And hidden upon its tree is
Never before seen fruit of colours
Even the rainbow cannot name
Nor does its waters cry out –
Only stillness is here.

Now brethren,
I ask you solely this:
Which lake and which tree will
The dove choose to lay and rest?
The beauty of the first
Or the stillness of the second?
Both are good, but which is of God?
“None” some say
“One” others say

But it is the second where it will lay;
Silent, serene and sound of mind
Where it can ponder on its day
And observe the paces of the enemy.
Rest is where the souls of the righteous lie
Still is what the LORD’s people say.

Like I said;
Both of these paths are narrow
Both of these paths are rarely traversed.
You have done well to come thus far
But after the fork of this road,
Question yourself and ask
Which path are you on?
Does The Dove find home on your tree?
Or are you too absorbed by the noise of beauty?
Signs and wonders will follow us both – beautiful
But only the pure in heart will see Him.
Choose wisely child
He is beckoning and will soon return.

The number of His people are dwindling.


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So he brought the people down to the water. And the LORD said to Gideon, “Everyone who laps from the water with his tongue, as a dog laps, you shall set apart by himself; likewise everyone who gets down on his knees to drink.”
And the number of those who lapped, putting their hand to their mouth, was three hundred men; but all the rest of the people who got down on their knees to drink water.
Then the LORD said to Gideon, “By the three hundred men who lapped I will save you, and deliver the Midianites into your hand. Let all the other people go, every man to his own place.”
Judges 7:5-7

The number of His people are dwindling.


Blossoming Breakthrough.

Of Ephraim.

The song of the plowing season.

“If you cannot affect a situation physically, seek to affect it spiritually” – Alexander McLean

LORD my skin is parched like

Waning soil in a famine.

My roots appear lost, non existent

Were they ever existent?

This seed that once promised much

Now promises nothing much over little.

But is a closed promise

Not a closed faith to the Promiser?

I will keep tilling the ground

In wait of this new spring.

Only then suddenly,

A new thing blooms

In the midst of adversity

In the midst of the famine

In the midst of doubt.

The out of season,

Unexplainable, improbable

Divine provision.

This seed beat all the odds,

This seed defied the norms

This seed settled the scores;

For as long as this tree towers tall above the rest,

The LORD is the King on the throne.


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“Then He said, “To what shall we liken the kingdom of God? Or with what parable shall we picture it? It is like a mustard seed which, when it is sown on the ground, is smaller than all the seeds on earth; but when it is sown, it grows up and becomes greater than all herbs, and shoots out large branches, so that the birds of the air may nest under its shade.”” Mark‬ ‭4:30-32‬

His whole Kingdom is rooted upon the principle of supernatural growth. Will you trust in His process?

Romantic Poetry

Gone. (Pt. 2)

Of Ephraim.

“So they both ran together, and the other disciple outran Peter and came to the tomb first.”
John 20:4″

Speeding ahead.
Huffing and puffing.
Gasping for air,
Blood on my taste buds.
Heart racing ahead of my legs.
Thighs tiring but my thoughts
Refusing to falter or stall for a second.
Doubting yet believing.
Seeing yet not yet seen.

I must find out.
I must know for myself,
I must see for myself.
Dubiety trips my feet
But the glimmer of hope
Gets me back and running.
I must find out.
Upon arrival,
I see
The handkerchief that was around His head
And the linen cloths that clothed Him
Folded to perfection.
The tidily prepared exit.
My Lover is gone.
The tomb is empty.
He is alive…


“Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb; and he saw the linen cloths lying there, and the handkerchief that had been around His head, not lying with the linen cloths, but folded together in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who came to the tomb first, went in also; and he saw and believed.”
John 20:6-8

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Romantic Poetry

Gone. (Pt 1)

Of Ephraim.

“Now in the place where He was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid.”
John 19:42

By God I cannot sleep.
My body is weary
But my eyes stand upright in fear
In anxiety and fright.
They have gone from being
My tools of sight to my bane
For they refuse to forget what they have witnessed.

Hour by hour,
I twist and turn to seek a cooler side
For my heavy heart to lay upon.
Only to remember,
The love of my heart,
The heat and fire to my soul
Is gone.

My mind casts back to the
Events of the day prior.
I am shaken to my bone,
Perplexed to my skull,
Spiralling in and out my sleep.

He who is mine,
Who was by my side for three good years,
Is nowhere to be seen,
No where to be found.
They tainted Him,
Mocked Him,
Spat on Him,
Smote Him,
And engraved their hate of Him upon His skin.
My own skin shivers at the memory of His own –
Rejected by His own kind.

Could my LORD really return?
O God spare my soul this grief.
He would have saved Himself from the Cross.
He could have punished the accusers.
He would have proved them all wrong.
But I watched as they solemnly wrapped
And placed His body in the tomb
And rolled the stone.

I am resigned to this fact,
That they took the One I love from me,
And I will never see Him again.
The love I thought would
Always be with Me,
Is gone.


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Romantic Poetry

Ambrosial Sounds.

Of Ephraim and Oye.

The sound of heaven.

Let us dance like David.
Only by Him will my foot
A stream of sounds flowing
down the trail of harmonies
lurking all around the garden.

All the strings will ripple
at the touch of Your hand.

The sound of Heaven.
The sounds of the garden.
The ripples of the current of His will,
O the warmth of the
streak of silver in the
The whistles of the leaves waving ‘Hosanna!’
The songs of the
dove and the cries
of the lamb proclaiming the entry of the
He has arrived.

The voice of the LORD
Calls for His bride
Soars for His bride
Draws for His bride.
Though she wanders with purpose
sometimes astray,
He never gives up –
Continues to pray.
His encouragements direct her –
All along the way,
Through the door,
Through her weakness He perseveres.

That is what lovers are for.

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The Lost Sheep.

Of Ephraim.

I am the lost sheep.

The black amongst the white,

The one out of the ninety-nine,

The prodigal son.

Unworthy yet welcomed.

Once a sinner but now a saint.

Lost yet now found.

My own feet led me to the brink of despair

But His hand led me to pastures green.

It is His outstretched hand

That saved me from the Pit of Hades.

It is His rod of sustenance,

That is my reminder of His mercy for me.

He has taken me thus far,

And promises me further beyond the horizon.

Though the trail may be rough,

Though the path may be tough;

Take His hand, child

And clasp onto it.

His hand will be your shelter,

He will guide you every step of the Way –

Through the waters

And the coals of fire –

He is the Way to the land of milk and honey.


“I am the Good Shepherd; and I know My sheep, and am known by My own.”

John 10:14

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The Heir’s Helmet.

A Psalm of Ephraim.

“To be aligned with Christ is to be aligned with His heart. To be aligned with His heart is to be aligned with His will.” E.K.

Blessed is He who hears the formulation of our thoughts toward Him.
Blessed is the Lord for His mercies never run dry.


Align me Father!
When my feet are not cemented in your will.
Loose me from my folly,
Chasten me when my wisdom overtakes yours.
For now I stand on your Word,
I stand tall in your promises.
On the cliff overlooking the battle,
I shall not fear,
For you keep my weapons sharp
And my armour ashine.
And I will take up my crown,
My helmet,
My identity in you.


“But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name: who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.” John 1:12-13