Monday, November 15

Sonnets

The following are old poems that were based on sermons or verses that I thought would make a good beginning to this.

Of Name Unspeakable
My God of name unspeakable, You are
somehow eternally blood appeased and sac-
rifice saturated though I am far
myself from appeasing and filled the more with lack
than have. For all the want in me for You,
I am ever sin-seeking, ever sin-
sought, as one wave to beach yet due
or magnet to magnet drawn, the serpent's kin
itself, not only fallen but creating fall
as well. You look, with innumerable mercies past
the blood and death I owe that stand to call
inadequate my righteousnessless cast.
For all of me that can't be what it ought,
the price is paid, the debt already bought.

A Once Perfect Image
By definition flesh is flawed for we
have blemished it, perverted what was made
in God's own theme, what was created to be
perfect. We, in our supreme crusade
to die, have deperfected the divine
reflection that once was cast from heaven's throne
upon the waters below. That decline
of flesh, frail, by nature both eager and prone
to sin, sponge-like in a legionous sea,
the viral host itself of all opposed to God,
God assumed for us, but sinlessly,
blemish unimbibed or fleshly flawed.
For that which is sin's home but not its native,
He, sinless, died that we might, sinful, live.

Passing Through Fire
You men of faith, whose inner fires dwindle,
whose spirits tremble with timidity
at the thought of stirring up the dark, rekindle
what lies dormant somewhere underneath
the burned out soot and ash, cool and grey
that we have learned to tolerate and ignore.
Rake aside the embers that died away
and bring to air the underlying store
of warmth and energy. Fire has not
a neutral spirit. We were made to burn,
not to sit in shadows, but in hot
response to God, and let our fanning turn
to flame. For that which waits to be relit,
may God's consuming fire kindle it.

The Great Divide
What faith can man employ to keep in frame
the things beyond our flesh, the things outside
of time and reason, which we can never claim
to circumvent, which can never be denied
by flesh. God, Himself, has built these feet
beneath us, and, with onward-heralding call,
He asks for faith of us, still incomplete,
that stands apart from these. It seems a small
thing for God, who is not marred by our
restrictions, to understand the sweeping span
of time all at once while we yet lack the power
to find, in even this moment, a trace of Your plan.
You who know eternity so well,
remember us, whom time and reason fell.

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