Rebirth
But for the Mercy of God
Matthew 7:1-3
(“And with the Measure You Use, It Will
Be Measured to You”)
As if by a lightning flash
across the sky, I am illuminated in
all my nakedness! As if by a
sword, I am eviscerated
and ripped asunder, my quarters
tossed to wild dogs fighting
neath this table of raging thunder!
I am to be measured by how
I measure?! I am to
be judged by how I judge?!
All is hopelessly lost!
My cup once full is now
carelessly spilled, the
oil for anointing wasted, and
all the finest, aromatic
perfumes misused – shamefully
applied at wedding feasts
seated in wrong places.
It is too late to unbury all
the bodies I buried. It is too late
to do anything to assuage
the hurt. The battleground lies
scorched under a blazing-
hot sky, and all I can see
are reapers picking at bones
littered ‘cross this field of
hard-bitten, unforgiving desert,
where banshees screech
that my heart lacked the human
compassion of eyes, and
wolves and ravens now jostle for
any entrails remaining.
Fences
Some people build fences
to keep others out,
while others build fences
to keep themselves in.
All that can be done is to
gently place a gift
at their gate, and hope
somehow it is seen, as
through pretty, pastel curtains
they discreetly peek…
Grace
O my Lord,
You so easily peer into
my heart, winding Your way
deftly and knowingly through the darkened
corridors and staircases
and recesses of my soul –
and alas You find
me – on a slab in a drab
burial cloth, hidden
behind a hewn rock hitherto
unrolled, but just as in
the Garden of Eden where
You found Adam and Eve in leaves
after their fall clothed, and
just as for Lazarus in
Bethany four-days aft his
death be told, You mercifully
summoned me forth,
and grace’s raiment You chose
that I wore.
Song of Solomon 2:1
“I Am the Rose of Sharon, and the Lily of the Valleys”
“I have not come to call the
righteous, but sinners to repentance,” *
and thus defines the essential
appeal of Jesus, His compassion and
His mercy, and why so many in
the crowds would press around Him,
clutching at His garments,
as if His words were falling
upon good soil in the heretofore
barren desert of their ears,
and multiplying in each their hearts
a Rose of Sharon – beautiful
in hope, and in purity oblivious to
mortal anxieties and fears.
“Ephphatha”*
"Open Up"
Down, down deep
into the depths I plunge,
sounding for the bottom in fathoms
dive to expunge.
Down, down deep
the water courses over me, in
protective rush of foam
across my eternity.
Down, down deep
my body points in arrow flight,
single in its purpose, its
object out of sight.
Down, down deep
a veil awaits, through the
eye of a needle the thread of a camel
still to navigate. **