🕎 The Ring Around the Remnant đŸ•Ž

Posted on by Marguerite Grace



🕎 The Ring Around the Remnant 🕎


A Psalm of Nations That Rose and Fell
For Israel, Who Was Small—And Chosen
Spoken in the voice of Michael, Captain of the Host of Heaven




Prologue: The Scale of Heaven


O earth, behold the balance drawn—
The feather-light against the proud.
A speck, a spark, a daughter torn—
Yet set apart to thunder loud.


O Israel, thou art not great—
Not broad of wing, nor deep of root—
But Heaven placed thee in thy state,
And angels gird thy ancient fruit.


“For thus saith the LORD of hosts… He that toucheth you toucheth the apple of His eye.” —Zechariah 2:8
“The LORD did not set His love upon you… because ye were more in number… but because the LORD loved you.” —Deuteronomy 7:7–8




I. The Encircling: Great Nations, Small Zion


Egypt—the titan built of stone,
Could hold her forty-fivefold wide—
But Pharaoh’s chariots sank alone
When Heaven turned the tide.


Iran—with breath of ancient flame,
Could crush her eighty times by girth,
Yet cowers at one whispered name
Spoken from Zion’s hearth.


Iraq, where Nimrod raised his cry,
Could hold her eighteen times and more—
But Babylon learned how thrones die
At the steps of a higher Door.


Syria, sharp as desert fang,
Could press her nine times overland,
Yet angels from the ramparts sprang
When Zion made her stand.


Lebanon, crowned with cedar pride,
Could swallow her twice and more—
But when she marched with death beside,
The Lion barred the door.


Jordan, hushed with wandering sands,
Could stretch her fourfold in her bed—
But Israel, cradled in God’s hands,
Still walks where Jordan fled.


Arabia, kingdom without end,
Could swallow her a hundred-fold,
But fears to stir the Lion’s den
Or tread where fire is cold.


Turkey, ancient seat of might,
Could fold her thirty-nine times round,
Yet trembles at her watcher’s light
Nor dares to shatter Zion’s sound.


“Fear not, thou worm Jacob… I will make thee a new sharp threshing instrument having teeth.” —Isaiah 41:14–15




II. The Wars That Failed


They came with charts, with guns, with boasts—
With scrolls that claimed her fate was sealed.
But lo—the LORD of Hosts,
Made battlefields her shield.


1948—when birth was pain,
Five armies swore she’d not arise—
Yet Zion stood, baptized in flame,
And Heaven wept through clouded skies.


1956—Suez’s cry.
Egypt’s charge was turned to hush.
The Angel passed, the idols died—
The sea did not backbrush.


1967—six days of flame.
Jerusalem’s veil torn through by light.
The trumpet sounded David’s name,
And angels joined the fight.


1973—the holy fast.
They struck on Zion’s sacred breath.
But Heaven’s fury, still and vast,
Unfurled the seraph’s breath.


And Lebanon’s creeping vengeance came,
And Gaza clawed through bitter sand—
But none could change the covenant name
Written by God’s hand.


“No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper…” —Isaiah 54:17
“The angel of the LORD encampeth round about them that fear him…” —Psalm 34:7




III. The Lion Rising


Now hear me, ye nations. I am Michael.
And I say: Enough.


Ye plot in rooms of polished steel,
With satellites and eyes on high—
But Heaven sees, and Heaven feels,
And Heaven soon shall cry.


Iran, thou shadow-breathing snake—
Thy banners blaze with wrath and rust—
Thou dreamest of the flame to make,
But thou art made of dust.


For lo—upon Mount Zion’s brow,
Ten thousand thrones are raised in fire—
And One, with sword and scroll and vow,
Shall soon come forth in ire.


He is the Lion, not yet roared.
He is the Judge, not yet revealed.
His feet are brass, His voice a sword—
His justice, never sealed.


This war we name The Lion Rising—
It is the tremble, not the fall.
The wrath is coming—real, surprising—
And Zion shall recall.


“Behold, the Lion of the tribe of Juda… hath prevailed…” —Revelation 5:5
“The LORD shall roar out of Zion… the heavens and the earth shall shake.” —Joel 3:16




IV. The Glory of the Small


Ye mock her dust. Ye scorn her name.
Ye call her frail, too poor to stand.
But God, who wrote the burning flame,
Has carved her on His hand.


The stone rejected raised the wall.
The sling of David cut the king.
And smallness was the trumpet’s call
That pierced the robe and crown and ring.


The widow’s mite, the prophet’s fast,
The mustard seed, the broken bread—
All shame the mighty, first made last,
And raise again the dead.


“For who hath despised the day of small things?” —Zechariah 4:10
“That no flesh should glory in his presence.” —1 Corinthians 1:29




V. The Final War


But lo—the plain of Megiddo waits.
And there the hosts shall make their claim.
The kings of earth shall tempt their fates,
And Heaven shall not tame.


The King returns. The Lamb with flame.
The earth shall crack. The sky shall split.
And all shall tremble at His name
When every throne is lit.


And Zion shines, no longer mocked—
Her gates swing wide, with angel pride.
The eastern hill where Christ once walked
Shall burst with angels at His side.


“And his feet shall stand… upon the mount of Olives…” —Zechariah 14:4
“And the LORD shall be king over all the earth.” —Zechariah 14:9




VI. Envoi: The Captain’s Decree


I am Michael. I speak to the ring.
To the dark, to the drones, to the iron-wing.


Touch her—and ye touch the flame.
Mock her—and ye mock His name.
Surround her—and ye stir the sky.
Lift sword—and ye shall surely die.


For the LORD is with her in thunder and hush.
In fire, in scroll, in trumpet rush.
The fig tree lives. The remnant sings.
And Zion is the throne of kings.


Let them gather. Let them rise.
Let the proud red clouds arise—
But the smallest flame defies the skies—
And the Lord of Hosts shall not divide.


“As birds flying, so will the LORD of hosts defend Jerusalem.” —Isaiah 31:5
“The LORD in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save…” —Zephaniah 3:17




🕎 Final Blessing:


“He that scattered Israel will gather him, and keep him, as a shepherd doth his flock.” —Jeremiah 31:10
“And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee…” —Genesis 12:3

Written by Marguerite Grace

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Published by Marguerite Grace

As a passionate and versatile writer, I craft works across all genres, fueled by a special love for poetry and short stories that inspires me to create. Writing since childhood, I've nurtured my talent, winning poetry contests in school and continuing to weave words into vibrant literary works of emotion and intrigue that uplift and motivate. Holding a Regents Bachelor of Arts Degree, I bring depth and artistry to my storytelling, embodying a spirit reminiscent of Mata Hari, mysterious, bold, and a fervent sleuthe. I infuse every piece with an enduring allure that resonates long after the final line.

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