Hello Death

 

Hello death.

Who said you could have entry here?

Who bid you welcome?

It wasn’t I.

 Yet here you are,

But not for me.

Nor for anyone in this room,

At least not yet.

But still you have come unbidden,

And taken life,

And with your garish grin you mock us,

And spin our world to deepest sorrow.

A sorrow which only brings more death.

More of you.

You strike young and old.

Strong and weak.

Guilty and Innocent.

The helpless.

But is not that all we are before your hollow eyes?

Helpless.

No man can escape you.

None who have lived have not faced you.

For we face you every day, 

As we walk through your shadowed valley.

But wait, Death, tarry still,

For don’t you remember your valley does not only descend?

For there is more beyond.

Oh, do not flee before I speak.

For there is a man.

Who you once sunk your ghoulish teeth into.

But this man did defeat you,

And brought light into your valley.

Shone forth in brightest glory.

And that man is which destroys you.

He is Life!

And because of Him,

we are more than conquerors!

 And Because of Him,

 You are but a moment.

No matter how broad you grin,

Or how sunken your eyes,

Your shadowed valley is only that.

A shadow.

A dark rut on the way to glory.

For this man shall be your death.

Your end.

He is Life,

and Life Eternal.

He is Jesus.

The Music

Twirls and spins

Skips and laughter

Such light and airy steps

Though the music prolongs

Weariness is not found in the revelers

But joy and rejoicing

An ache of things forgotten

A thankfulness for things had

And a longing for what will be

Dizzying spirals

Ever to the beat

Not delirious

Nor manic

Are these dancers 

not arrayed in false colours

Or deceptive menagerie

But simple white gowns

Of humble appearance

But the music

Oh that is most lavish

Such pure and beautiful melodies

Of holy and sacred sound

That brings these dancers to their feet

That brings tears deep and sweet as honey

That brings their eyes to the throne

Where they look to the Chief Musician

And as little children plead

"Come dance with us!"

"Guide our steps!"

And who in shock and awe

Watch as He comes down

Takes their hands and

With greatest laugh of joy

Leads them in the dance

To the call of His music

The Search for Love

Oh why does the heart still fall in love

When only pain it does beget

What drives the resounding beats

That surely will fall flat

No desire so sickeningly sweet

Nor hope so despairing

Yet if love was a sword

We would fall on it gladly

To death we would search

For “till death do us part”

Because life begins apart

Without intimacy of heart

But only separation

Seems the natural state

So why the intuition

The instinctive longing

The ever seeking wander

That surely is for naught

Or we feel it so

Yet search we must

For love we were made

And not love a concept

But rather Love

A Person

A God

He instilled that intuition

To know loneliness

As unnatural

And He died

To bridge that separation

And He went to it gladly

That we might know Love

Jesus

Intimately  

We are made for Love

Crafted for Love

By Love

Crafted by Love

God drives these resounding beats

And they will not fall flat in His hands

But when they stop

Death does not part

And pain we will forget

As we meet

And rest

At our Saviour's feet

The Self Portrait

The poet sat and thought

He thought very much a lot

about the words he could put to page

whether something whimsical or sage

But it was all for naught

For his brain did rot

As he sat upon his spot

In very much deep thought

You see he worried of this thing

About how his words would ring

This caused him so much strife

He completely wasted his life

This worry consumed his time

So much he never penned a line

And you can find his bones

Sitting quite alones

With quill in hand

Paper at his feet in sand

Only a title written on the sheet

    THE SELF POR-TREET

The Dance

I stood on the sand
Fine and soft beneath my feet

Entranced with beauty

As she herself was entranced with the rolling waves

Each roll and swell matching her inhaling and exhaling.

She was caught in a dance with the sea

And I with her beauty

No feeling of romance associated with this enrapture

But rather the beauty of elegant innocence 

The grace of peaceful joy

Something unweathered by time and scars

The indescribable love of a youthful heart

That when seen creates a desire to join in 

But the dance so elusive one knows that he cannot join without an invitation.

And though she left, I could swear as I stood there; that she was there long after the sun fell to rest in the water.

The Sacrifice

Trapped in a cage 

a box 

so tightly enclosed 

my own breath 

harsh and hot against my own face 

sticky 

I squirm and twist 

trying to squeeze my own way out 

I breath through my mouth 

so I don't smell the stench of myself 

my own death 

But I can taste it 

taste it on my tongue 

that is thick and parched 

slimed 

I begin to scream and yell 

curse and rage 

fight 

attempt drown out my own voice in my head 

thrash against these walls that hold me 

I would do anything to escape ' 

anything 

I would destroy 

kill 

murder 

before I fully comprehend 

a knife is in my hand 

and before me is brought a lamb. 

A voice says 

kill 

eat 

and be free 

No second thought I pierce it's side 

I tear its flesh 

until it falls 

lifeless 

Body in hand I devour 

Blood to lips I drink so deep 

the voice whispers you are free 

But meat once sweet turns sour 

and blood to bitterest taste 

Tears begin to fall like scales from my eyes 

I see the lamb's white wool 

in contrast to these walls. 

What have I done 

I destroyed the only beauty before I knew it 

In these walls I deserved to be 

I myself am guilty 

And behold 

the Lamb rose 

He turned to me and said 

one word 

innocent 

and his blood he placed. 

placed upon me 

beckoned me to follow 

and follow I did 

we passed through the walls 

to the wedding feast 

and great rejoicing was there 

I looked outside the feast and saw 

others inside their own walls 

each with their knives and Lamb 

and much the same for them as me 

inside those walls they will be 

as long as self-innocence is declared 

they will be guilty 

but he who cries 

guilty! 

shall be declared innocent 

and set free 

and he whom the Son sets free is free indeed!