Poetry by Paul Horton

Greetings from the Lord to all who read
these words which fill the deepest need.
I'm just a man, a bag of flesh, like you.
A letter typed. A word appears.
And a message reaches etheral ears.
May all these words bring growth, provoking us to do.

My name is Paul Horton. But I am neither like the Apostle nor the Elephant. We're all just a little different. But isn't that how God intended His gift to His Son to be?

By His Grace.

Pure Light to Grey Letters

What have I to say among the mass of Saints now entered in?

There all things known, and fully now, I struggle still with sin.

To teach the Truth verbatim; beyond my grasp I see.

So I craft with careful listening a similitude of He.

They had their turn in this dark place as do my present kin.

No doubt they too debated words to spark an interest in

That lovely story given men by He who overcame.

And sat beside the Holy One with His perfected frame.

I do not write those words of truth with careful ink and pen.

I dip my soul in endless hope. He leads and I begin.

A thought, a vision, all vague to me till letters fall in line.

Then happily setting on display, not calling any mine.