The contemporary free verse version, titled Gems in the Sin-Sick Dawn, is a concise, hopeful devotional poem that speaks directly and urgently to Christ-centered poets.
In short lines and natural, conversational flow (without rhyme or strict meter), it poses a key question: In this broken, shadow-filled “sin-sick world” where voices fade, is there still room for poets whose hearts overflow with Scripture-inspired beauty?
The answer affirms yes. Hearts brim with vivid “gems” — diamonds of uncut clarity, rubies ablaze with holy fire, emeralds echoing Eden’s promise, malachite enduring storms, rhodochrosite as tender mercy — all kinds of poetry mined from “the veins of God’s magnificent words.”
Earthly outlets remain open (pages, screens, journals like risen tombs), where the hungry find light and the weary find breath. Yet even if the world shuts doors or ignores praise, the true, unfailing audience is our blessed Trinity: Father who spoke the first verse, Son the living Word, Spirit who revives dry bones.
The poem ends with a prophetic call: Poets of the Holy Bible, arise! Write on! Offer every line upward as an unfading jewel in heaven’s courts. Darkness cannot quench this light; hope gleams eternal, words are treasured, polished, set in glory. The King listens, delighted.
Overall, it’s a raw, encouraging prophecy — immediate and intimate like spoken encouragement or testimony — celebrating persistence in faith poetry, divine delight over worldly rejection, and the enduring sparkle of biblical truth in a weary age.
In this sin-sick world,
where shadows press and voices fade,
is there still a place
for Christ-centered poets?
Hearts full of diamonds—clarity uncut,
rubies burning with holy fire,
emeralds deep as Eden’s promise,
malachite enduring through the storm,
rhodochrosite tender, rose of mercy—
gems of poetry of every kind,
mined from the veins of God’s magnificent words.
Yes—there is still a place.
The page awaits, the screen glows,
journals open their arms like open graves
now empty, risen.
Publish where the hungry seek light,
share where the weary find breath.
And even if doors bolt shut,
if the world plugs its ears to praise,
my audience remains
our blessed Trinity—
Father who spoke the first verse,
Son who is the living Word,
Spirit who breathes life into dry bones.
So poets of the Holy Bible, arise!
Write on!
Let every line be a jewel offered upward,
sparkling in the courts of heaven,
unfading, undimmed.
The darkness cannot quench this light.
Hope gleams eternal—
your words are not lost,
but treasured, polished, set in glory.
Write on, dear poet.
The King listens, delighted.
Passionately Pursuing Christ 