Poetry “Bow”

Why do we not bow?
Have we forgotten our place

Nose to dirt, knees collapsed
Arms out spread, eyes spilling

From dirt we are made
We lie down in its place

To humble myself before you
To be bent like a bow and arrow

May I be flexible Father
For the work given me

Bind me from one end to the other
To walk a narrow path

Would the words that come
Be arrows of truth, piecing hearts

I am yours Lord, you carry me
In your hands I can perform any task

Break my pride, warp my selfishness
Sand my roughness, notch my needs

My back arches to the ground
Bent, warped, shaped from earth

Lord Angels bow before you
All creation hangs on your words

Help me to not forget whom I serve
A loving Father, a mighty king

Jesus the messiah, flames of fire
Feet of brass, blazing brightness

Glory that will last.
We are but flowers in a field.

Bending, bowing, breathing, dying.
To whom we bow holds the keys of life.

He is the alpha and omega
His voice roars like the waters

He is alive forevermore
Kneel before Him for he is Holy.

Bow to our Maker.
To the master craftsmen.

To the one who whilst end all war.
And lift up the pure in heart.