by Allyn Smith

Created on: March 01, 2010   Last Updated: January 18, 2012

Falling stars on the field

She is standing in the kitchen
there is trembling in her hand
Seven vials seen out her window
their burning stars start to pour
Seven horns finally reveal
what’s no longer children’s lore

Through its pane a star’s reflection
boldly marches down the hallway
like a glistening beacon
A salient soldier’s banner
forging ahead in great glory

proudly displays its spear of gold

Her morning dreams lie barren
A shattered cup on the floor
There is streaking in each shadow
burning sculptures in the sand
There is a firestorm in the glass
and vast shaking in the land

Who’ll withstand these hungry horses
with their tails of fire and brimstone
Their nostrils spitting froth and foam
each talent of boiling rage
Sieving the sky’s blue dalliance 
into rampant confusion

She always knew that flowers die
Beauty withers on the page
when it is yellowed and darkened
Its message lost or ignored
Now from whom all beauty was formed
man’s arrogance reaps reward

Who’ll plant the fields or harvest grain
when the keepers hide in their holes
and the seed rots in the corner
Who’ll quell the fires when firemen hide
in their lakes never deep enough
to quench the flames that burn inside

She knows it’s not turn left or right
but only to trust in the Lord
Food withers, water evaporates
What’s kept, by thieves can be found
A year, month, day and an hour
is long to lay underground

No missile can offer defense
for one to one will not hit two
nor thirty two grand per hour due
Who’ll protect the lavish parlors
and the vaulted thrones of man’s heart
where his ego sits so pretty

She perks up her kitchen and vows
to fear not the next minute
For her family she must teach
“His love for us” as our shield
is greater than stone roofs galore
and the comfort they might wield

Science and wisdom can’t fathom
the woe of His three woes
Right side up is now upside down
One is killed but not the two
And reprieving not even the sea
is this swarm of audacity

Her children scamper to her knee
Her husband shuts the curtains
and looks to her with thankfulness
For them sorrow won’t prevail
Falling stars upon the field
is the voyage they must sail

Soon, her children were heard to sing
“Burning arrows from the sky
from His bow they did fly
Falling stars upon the field
Our God Is Lord, He’s our shield”

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