Behold // Alancha // Spoken Word (
behold HE comes
once more as He did before
like repeating an encore
only this time, in HIS complete form
as if the application for HIS return
was fulfilled

what we consider home
is HIS footstool
seated on the throne
The King of kings stands
and the weight of His glory
breaks heaven's back
HE steps
as grand as canyons

nature takes advantage of the opportunity we've been given
a volcanic eruption of worship of the omnipresent
forfeiting their natural being
mountains submit as HE surpasses there elevation
& they in turn melt rather than be found unmovable
joining there voices with the rocks
that rather cry out than be found unshakeable

trees use the limbs that they grew patiently
to give HIM a standing ovation
and the seas never ceased from waving
since the beginning

all in recognition of the Creator of creation
but we spend our lives denying HIS deity
questioning HIS sovereignty
doubting HIS return
but HE is coming

and if not from us
what HE is worthy of
will come from inanimate objects
and while HE tarry's
I hope this poem
resuscitates the apparent death of worship
we're destined to give