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The Poem of Malachi
It is not I, who claims to know and understand the secrets of the universe
but the One, that sent me to proclaim the true God in divers many a verse.
I am but a corrupted mirror for the
One who rules and who does know
without him as her I could not say a thing, but melt away like snow.
But a
dirty mirror yet can reflect the lights and shades of the truth so divine
to honour in glory and in remembrance,
the One preparing the way sublime.
Should I be just another deluded fool, walking the earth in itself divided
there have indeed been many such men often in word and deed onesided;
then it doesn't matter how the story unfolds
and how the tale might end
and the prose will be as nothing, the words of a false prophet self-sent.
But if
the One who sent me is true and in wisdom of the heavenly gold
then a new world can be born from the remnants of the
whithering old.
Then the prophet will be known to have been true to God's own lot
never mind the real
fools, who belittle, ridicule and say that it cannot.
The wisdom of God is more potent, then the knowledge of
vanity Man
God rejoices in your heart's message: "Yes, indeed, I can understand!"
Know that
all of you are Israelites and the Blood of Jacob's well
the gentiles of Paul are your kindred folks, sounding an
alien bell.
Ezekiel's siege of Israel has now begun in earnest on 9-7-9 D.O.B.
with Jeremiah, all of the old
prophets returned to finish their Job.
The holy land, your promised land is renown as the mother planet earth
Your bodies are the temple of God, Jerusalem both new and old in dearth.
Malachi - The Last Prophet
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