The Stoning Candidate

Ever wonder why He wrote on the ground?

the rocks were found

ready to be hurled

He wrote on the ground

my destiny unfurled

the rocks were dropped

my accusers stopped

what did He write

that turned faces white

follow Him I must

the One that I trust

He sees me differently

than all other men

treats me wonderfully

because it's when

the bulk of my pain, 

soaked up and sponged

the heart pains soothed

while sin-crimes expunged

evaporate to dark mist

and sink into dark past

but ongoing lingering

of whispers about me

judgments cranked

where God has no mem'ry

those that take sides

have no understanding

their thoughts of me just

like hot iron branding

head below heart

positioned to depart

to the place of meeting

to heal heart's bleeding

Yeshi does understand

life's cruel cold hand

yes, He does understand

He's both eraser

—and embracer

forgiven and held

my spirit propelled

shot into the heights

without former frights

now i could face them

now it's no problem

why should i care

about man's approval?

i, as reject,

became His project

when life goes south

and things go bust

instead of hardening

developing crust

run to Him

the one to trust

to Him alone, yes,

to Him, you must.

- Tony Mujica © 2011

Outside Of Time

God can move the artist who listens for His direction. For artists with multiple art forms, God speaks in many ways.

Outside Of Time

Outside of time-

Inspired art

and rhyme.

Colors splashed,

the words

intertwined.

Drawings move

into poetry,

And the tomes

spark imagery.

Of transcendental essence,

I hope and pray.

Escaping to ponder

The Life, Truth, and Way.

Thoughts of my King,

an air current's lift,

I turn my wings

just so,

to make shift.

But now I must go

and toot my horn.

Been so long,

...I hope,

not so foreign.

Translating

pix and words

into sound.

Melodies

glorifying Him

to be found,

Playing to

an audience of one,

at least.

Hope the neighbors

like this

sound feast.

A little loud,

I reach for

the mute.

Might've been better,

had I studied the flute.

- Tony Mujica © 2011

Bitter Sweet

Bitter Sweet

The scroll had been eaten,

musta' been sweeten'd.

It went down so good,

not like

I thought

it would.

But after a while

gone was my smile.

And in it's place

a frown graced my face.

The bubbly burped up -

just what did I sup?

That scroll,

to be sure.

Bitter bubbles

need a cure.

His divine suggestion

(for spiritual indigestion) -

"Speak words about Me,

how I love'm,

decree.

Here's the relief

for your bottled grief.

Prophesy a while,

to get back your smile.

"When you ate the scroll,

My words had their toll.

But the scroll was blank

as it went down your tank.

"Empty of words

of content specific

I fueled you up

with spontaneous prolific.

I'm filling you up

to spout

off-the-cuff.

"A word for the moment

and if that's not enough -

You could chirp out a song

to my forest birds

They'd get the message,

through My chirpy words."

- Tony Mujica © 2011

Earth Prays

Earth Prays

Time is

of the essence

We are hungered

for your presence

One can hear

the groans-

Listen! The Earth,

it moans.

The funnels twist,

the deluge pours.

Tsunamis overtake

coastal shores.

Earth knows a thing

most men do not.

As winter blisters cold

and summer

boils hot.

As if to bemoan

our sad condition,

Weather delivers its

stern petition:

"Mankind has seen

a better day.

Even the wind knows

when to pray.

"When Creator, will You

bring forth

Seven-burners synced

in Ruach's force.

Men called forth

in Holy Flame

Written about,

of Bible fame.

"More than that, when

will He come.

The Father's Heart is

where He's from.

He sang our forces

into being

Rocks and stones

respond with

singing.

"Why does man

choose disbelief?

We know the source

of your great grief

It is quite simple,

don't you agree?

Came down to Earth

to set us all free."

- Tony Mujica ©2011