The oil trickled
down his hair
and handsome young neck.
Before David’s kin
the Spirit plunged into his being.
A new king was made.
Another time:
A chilled night,
No oil,
but the Spirit hovered
lovingly, mightily:
The Everlasting King
was born.
Moses
plucked from slaves and rushes
and made a royal prince.
Became a prophet,
priest and leader “king”;
called to
set God’s people free.
A Saviour
who only saw
the Promised Land
from afar.
His rod would rule and save
to a point.
Moses, an imperfect shadow,
Of The Word
The Priest
And
The holy King
who would
set his people free
forever
in a Promised Land
to which he has risen,
to prepare.
From father to son,
and father to son,
the king rules.
Long live the King!
With Sceptre,
the staff of authority
the honour continues
from regal generation
to regal generation.
The kingdom rises
and falls.
God’s promise
persists.
But we wait,
and wait
for the ultimate king.
The king!
The Lion will rule with
the wand of real power
over all nations
for eternity.
Last year in my Christmas poems I tried, with a number of them, to look at Christmas from the point of view of some of the participants. I have never before had so much fun writing poetry. It was a treat trying to get into the heads of these characters. Some of the ideas came from the Bible and others from my imagination.“Blessing” and “blessed” are abused words. They can often be used in quite trite ways. But …
Abram was promised
that he would be blessed
to be a blessing.
Blindly and faithfully
he obeyed
and went.
His family would bring forth
THE Blessing –
through, one, two, twelve
and multitudes – a nation.
His family line led
to a feed trough
in Bethlehem.
The Blessing:
a Kingdom, forgiveness
and life everlasting,
had come.
The promise fulfilled.
To crush a head
Unusual Figure: St. Mary Magdalen, Geddington, UK
or bruise a heel:
There is a world of difference.
It is to die or live.
The Promise died then lived
… and lives.
The cursed lives,
on borrowed time for a moment,
as his fate was sealed
on a cross so long ago,
to die.
The Promise would be born
of a woman inflicted
with the pain of child birth.
The daughter of Eve
would deliver the
head crusher
and soul healer.
The discordant output of
youthful recorder players
wafts in through the open windows;
Students busily tapping keyboards
and scratching pens on paper;
Older students regretting the wasted evenings;
Others rushing to teachers’ offices
in a last minute flurry;
Teachers with stress lines etched like road maps
on their tired faces;
Tolerance rubbed thin
by demands and expectations
exams and essays;
The sun’s warmth beckons
for Summer to come quickly,
but the “to do” list is too long to notice
its invitation …
It must be “Report Writing Time”!
Another morning awakes,
and my soul leaps
for another word
from You.
Another reminder
of love and place,
of family and eternity.
Creation bows before You,
each day anew.
Birds sing and warble
their praises.
Flowers and trees bow to You.
Lord, thank you for
my undeserved place before you
and hearing my prayer
and loving me!
My place with you
is greater
more blessed
and life giving
than any trifle the world
can offer.
My soul is so easily entertained,
by everyday things:
Amusing titbits,
diverting trivia and
inane time wasters .
My heart can be so shallow
and fickle,
that where treasure
should live
there is dross and detritus –
the dust of life.
Fill me
Oh God with
You.
Your Spirit,
Your Word,
Your Life.
Enliven me
with what is real
and eternal.
Empower me to leave
the dust behind.
Disparate souls
wandering.
Hearts seeking
relationship.
Beings made
to relate and join and
celebrate community,
un-warmed,
un-connected,
un- celebrated
Connections bound
by rigid rules,
by unconsidered traditions,
and lifeless patterns.
“Insanity” it is said,
“Is doing the same thing
Over and over again.
Expecting different results.”
The spark of God,
the frisson of Spirit
and life enhancing
bonds
ached for
so that soul meets soul,
spirit, spirit
and being, being.
Hence the Divine
may shine
brighter
clearer
and eternally
for the un- generation.
Travels from Ur 