by Gideon O. Burton

No Still Voice and Small
by Gideon O. Burton

The Spirit, so they say, comes still and small,
As though the voice of God Himself were stagnant;
Or that creation's Author scarce can call
Who sings into the winds that stroke his planet,
Who roars into the crashing waves alive,
Whose sprouting, greening plants do shake and stir,
Whose million moving species active thrive.
No quiet voice thus bids such life occur.
As Jesus summoned, "Lazarus, come forth!"
So beckons God to each our dying souls,
In resonance that echoes south to north,
In burning, hot as magma, bright as coals.
     The Lord Almighty's voice is as a storm;
     His Spirit shouts and suddenly we're born.

This poem won first place in the 1995 Literature and Belief Writing Contest for poetry and was subsequently published in Literature and Belief 17.1&2 (1997): 99.

Feel free to copy or distribute this poem as long as you give proper acknowledgement of authorship