Scarlet Robe Creations

Sing a song of praise, the vineyard is mine. I tend it daily and it's fruit shall be abundant, its goodness will overflow. For now, do not doubt my compassion, even when I have cause to anger. You, my children, are the branches and I am the vine. You wage hatred among yourselves. Battle over wars which are not yours to win. You scar the beauty of the plowed field with Abel's blood. Sing a song of praise, for I have not forgotten the flavor of each grape. You who are sour, you who are sweet, you who are blessed in my sight. When the summer is dry I cry tears of moisture and when the night is cold I embrace you to my bosom. Cling to me, flourish within the vine, merge with me, nurture yourselves on my kindness. The song you offer, be it one of praise. Some offer words to ravage, others offer lyrics of hate. Your song, children of the vine, must be of love. copyright 2018 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P...

The leaf takes on the hue of autumn and the Father of all gives his consent. Just as the sparrow sings a final song before leaving this life. The LORD hears its song and is aware of its death. The leaf, changing color and falling to the earth, the LORD has counted each one and witnessed their dances of glory, their dances of praise, their dances of worship. The sparrows, He has bestowed upon them every song ever escaping their throats. He is the author of every note and the beauty of their songs glorify His being. Little ones He has counted every breath to ever fill your lungs. He has made note of each tear, each smile to ever decorate your face. Little ones change your colors gracefully, as He wills it. Dance in praise of Him whenever you sing, be it the first song from your lips or the last. copyright 2005 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author