Milk And Honey Flowed

The Milk and Honey Flowed

By Dr. Phil Spears

I saw it once, in a dream, or maybe a memory—A land not bought, but born. Where fences were few, and faith was thick, And the milk and honey flowed like prophecy torn.

Children danced in fields they didn’t sow, Their laughter was older than their lungs. truth rose like wheat, slow but sure, And every lie died young.

The rivers ran with stories, not poison, Names carved in stone were remembered. The fig tree bore for the bitter and sweet, And the winters were always tempered.

I heard a voice from a burning cedar, It said, “The promised was never a place—It’s the way you walk, the bread you break, The justice you wear on your face.”

And the milk and honey flowed—Not for the loudest, but for the kind. Not for the crowned, but for the cross-marked, For those who keep their neighbor in mind.

Oh, prophets came in overalls and boots, Their scrolls were lunch sacks, their sermons work. They hammered peace into barn doors, And tilled hope from the dirtiest dirt.

I saw it. And I say it again. This land can live if the hearts stay true. Not by might, not by gold, not by guns, But by love that knows what it's called to do.

So let the wolves dress up in politics. Let the serpents hiss behind the screen. Still—the milk and honey will flow Wherever the soul stays clean.