The Cry

BY EDWARD TAYLOR III

Strong cries & tears rise up with-in, with my hands raised I receive the weight of responsibility as I’m ushered into the presence of God: Strong cries & tears rise up with-in, I suffer the pain of my brother, the anguish of the mother, I perceive the sorrow upon my sister, I peer into the burning desire for an uncorrupted purpose of a fathers child; Then I hear their cries, a sound so loud it’s like thunder when it cracks the sky; emotions erupt out of souls when their cries explode like a volcano; hopeful spirits waiting to prevail shake with the pain of a mothers travail: Strong cries & tears rise up with-in, marking the moment the wailing begins, my shoulders bear the weight of every prayer requested, this is the intercessors burden, it is here we are tested, this is the cry: Strong cries & tears rise up with-in, drops of fervency smite the ground again & again, our screams are unleashed, in the cry we become priest, we stand in the gap to shield the flock from the enemies attacks; We stand posted on our watch, waiting & watching, our eye’s full of expectation; our praises seed the clouds of promise, our strong cries invite the windfall of healings, & our tears display the sincerity of our hearts, as we take up the cry of God’s people before our King. I approach the throne of Christ heavily laden with Strong cries & tears that rise up out of me…