NEW FEATURE - Poetry Corner

As I walk through a sea of humanity, a touch on the shoulder. Are you her? No, I’m sorry sir. There are just too many, but then so few or even one who is truly you. Alone and sometimes frantic, Are you she? Could you be! Please, Please tell me! No, and frankly mister neither am I your sister. Now would you let me be? Beat the path, the beaten one, He promised me I’d know her, but still He won’t show her. A keen deception when, “my precious, my love… I’ve seen your promise walking, talking, soft and gentle as a dove”. Eyes that often fail me, could an apple so derail me, a ruse? ARE YOU HER MISS?! Only laughter, and thereafter n’er a vision could I use. Deciding I’d be hiding, for the near term fraught with change. I’d leave my promise, walking, seeking me in my abiding. I perk my ears, oh, did I hear her? A voice I could never fear, “Are you he, for me?” she exclaimed. Still small voice inside me, warning… Miss you found me, thus I must be. But alas, she walked past and I could not even feel her go, she would not reveal her so, deaf I’ll now remain. Great and small they go before me, shuffling, bustling, living, thoughtfully I refrain. Still small voice that lives inside me? I exclaimed. Might I trouble you for a query, for a moment, in the quiet could I pray? Oh Father now, oh how now will I find her; faith in my sight has gone away. Oh my Lord how will I heed her, oh how when now my ears have gone and gone astray? Silence, only quiet in my silence, so now I wait. Deeply, truth did rise within my mind, then answers to my harrowed mind did come, and fall like rain. That small voice within me, no longer small but now convinced me, of the purpose in my pain. He said, “My love, I made her from your rib, you’ll know her in the form I give, no eye has seen. My love you’ll sense her even in a hush, as when she speaks you will feel Me, no ear has heard. My love even with no faculties, with even so little as a sneeze, you will conceive, tis’ she! My love despair is not for you, I understand completely, I do. Your task is not to scratch and fight, to wander, searching, asking day and night. Perfectly I made you and perfectly I’ve wound the clock, My time for you will come and not, one second before I mean. Yours is just to rest in Me, to hope. Yours is just to trust in Me, to dream, and n’er to be alone.” I stayed there long on my knees, silence, only quiet in my silence, and a cool night breeze. A God that truly loves me, in and through, below and above me! No, my heart will not cease wanting, though however daunting, tis’ ever hidden, cosseted, and in You… free.

Mark Luther
Copyright 2006

1 Corinthians 2:9