By Yasen Vedrin
(The Copper Bowl)
Ask the Lord God to grant an autograph.
Upon your very heart, let Him sign true…
Am I mistaken here? Or do I speak
For such a miracle to come to you?
The world pursues cheap stars along the street,
And begs for signatures, just for the fame.
To fill its pride with a deceptive heat,
Midst fleshly noises and a shallow game.
The Savior, with His Holy pen in hand,
Will write His own deep words within your mind,
Whenever faithful souls across the land
Perform Good deeds that He won't leave behind.
"I was so hungry! And you gave Me bread!
I was so thirsty! And you gave Me drink!
I was so sick, with weakness on My bed,
But in a wretch, of My Name you did think!
I was in prison, and you came to see!
And I a stranger was, who found a home!
After so many doors were closed to Me,
Your own doors opened for Me not to roam!"
It is in this way Jesus signs today,
And validates His Name with drops of Blood.
They know His Covenant by heart, they say,
Yet trample it with hatred through the flood.
He still remains unseen by many eyes.
A Star that grounded its own Holy Might.
To wait and gaze, mocked under darkened skies,
At fruitless hands and hearts devoid of Light.
And nowadays, when all accumulate wrath,
And coldness is a norm, a public sign,
Ask the Lord God to grant an autograph…
Upon your very heart, let Him sign fine!
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