The Tongue That Sows Eternity

A Poem Inspired by Proverbs 18:21

Within the silent chambers of the heart

A hidden spring begins its secret flow;

There every word receives its earliest birth

Before the winds of speech have bid it go.

No syllable escapes the sovereign eye

Of Him whose voice first summoned light to be;

He weighs each whisper in His perfect scales

And marks each seed cast on eternity.

The tongue, though small, commands a mighty field,

Where unseen harvests faithfully arise.

Its gentle rain can wake the sleeping seed,

Its scorching flame can darken hopeful skies.

The careless jest, the proud and cutting phrase,

The falsehood clothed in pleasing garments fair,

May leave a wound no passing years can heal,

Though smiles have long concealed the deep despair.

Yet blessed are the lips that speak with grace,

Whose language bears the fragrance born above.

Their words become cool streams for weary souls,

Rich messengers of everlasting love.

The trembling heart finds courage in their sound,

The fainting spirit learns again to sing;

For heaven often sends its sweetest gifts

Upon the humble sentences they bring.

The tongue may build where many sought to break,

May lift the fallen from the dust of shame,

May kindle hope where midnight long has ruled,

And glorify the everlasting Name.

A single word of truth, in mercy wrapped,

Can pierce the darkness like the dawn's first ray;

It calls the wandering pilgrim home again

And turns the lost from ruin's fatal way.

How swiftly, too, the restless tongue may stray,

When pride assumes the throne that love should keep.

Its boastful echoes scatter bitter seeds,

Whose harvest causes generations weep.

The angry answer, sharpened without thought,

Awakens storms no mortal hand can still;

The poison dropped in unsuspecting hearts

Accomplishes a silent, dreadful will.

O let us then with holy wisdom learn

That speech is never empty, vain, or small.

Each word becomes a witness to the soul,

A faithful servant answering Heaven's call.

The lips reveal the treasure stored within,

As rivers prove the fountain from their birth;

The fruit of every sentence shall declare

The hidden garden of the inward earth.

The Lord Himself has spoken life to all

Who hear His gracious and redeeming voice.

His living Word has conquered death itself

And bids the broken heart again rejoice.

The tongue that once was captive unto sin

May now become an instrument of praise,

For grace transforms the speech of those redeemed

To bless their God through all their numbered days.

Then may our words be seasoned well with truth,

Made tender by the wisdom born above;

Let every sentence carry heaven's light,

And every answer testify of love.

For life and death abide upon the tongue,

As sacred Proverbs wisely has declared;

And they who sow with faithful, righteous lips

Shall eat the fruit their careful hands prepared.

So when the evening shadows round us fall,

And every idle sound has fled away,

May there remain the quiet, lasting fruit

Of words that honored Christ through every day.

Then shall our speech, once offered unto God,

Become a hymn no passing years destroy,

Until we join the everlasting choir

Where every tongue proclaims eternal joy.