Saturday, March 21, 2009

On this hill

On this hill

In darkest daylight
with all sin revealed
the host is lifted high.
There is no melancholy melody to this sacrifice,
no quietude of choir-filled gentility
to align thought and soul.
This altar of absorbing pain
staggers the senses, grips the mind.

This is a solitary place.
A hermitage
crowded with broken hearts
and wounded spirits
oblivious of their fellows.

Let sense be dulled;
for here the sting of death
awaits those who turn their face
for easier vistas.
This unquiet beauty of wracked passion
steals the splendour of simpler creations
and scourges art and word and song.

Tears are the sea
from which this mast arises,
this lighthouse which signifies
wrecking rocks and vicious tides.
The storm which ravages here
breaches time and place,
pulsing of life and void of death.
A lightning flash shears the curtain,
the thunderous roar
a fanfare to sanctity.

On this hill eternity is on trial;
a single soul it’s witness,
the jury a world of closed eyes.

A timbered suffering sacrifice
sees my small pain
and weeps
for me.


originally a 'faithwriters challenge' entry
‘On this hill’ published by Haruah Jan 2008 and by RootsWorship March 2008

This is one of a series of 12 poems for Holy Week.

4 comments:

Kathryn Darden said...

Powerful and moving!

the.meros said...

Hi folks. My name is Tom Meredith and I live in Australia. I've decided that writing poetry and sticking it in a folder on my shelf is not the way to go. I would like to submit a couple of poems from my archives for your consideration and would love to become a contributing member! Hope you like.

DRY SPELL

As dawn turns to day and the traffic slows down
The factory winds up to belch smoke from its crown
I rise from what sleep I achieved through the night
Walk into my day and I'm flying the same kite

Facts and figures, debts and bills
A new pain in my head and I'm swallowing pills
I must buy new clothes and I must cut my hair
I must walk the walk and I must not despair

I set time aside to pray in the morn
I start to confess then remember the scorn
I received yesterday and my mind starts to race
Then I think of another tough thing that I face

I'm walking the paths of the world once again
I was talking to God now I'm anxious of men
It's a pattern emerging that haunts me of late
I was closer than close, now the distance seems great

It bothers me so that I'm feeling so dry
I'm seeming to crawl when I'm needing to fly
I'm getting confused as I beat myself up
Though I know that the devil will refill this cup

Then there's that voice and it's ever so faint
It tells me I sin but I'm also a saint
It tells me "My child, though you strive and you pace,
I sent you My Son, you are under My grace"

He deserted His throne and He came down to die
and I marvel at how I can cry out and sigh
He carried my sin and He fell to His knees
With the cross on His back and His blood for the fee

You are my rock O Nazarene!
I get my hands dirty but you wash them clean
You HAVE forged my path, you HAVE set the stage
You ARE by my side 'till the end of the age

Though I feel down and a little removed
I will stay on your path Lord because you have proved
That your Word is the truth and your love is the way
and I want to stand with you on that holy day


INVITATION TO LIFE
(based on Isaiah 55:1)

A call to every nation
There's been a declaration
A message issued with a trumpet blast

You have an invitation
To join a celebration
So shake a leg and get your tickets fast

In the general population
There's a great infatuation
With seeking truths down many barren tracks

This 'new age' intoxication
Leaves you stranded at the station
Empty bags and none the wiser for the facts

Does your spiritual stagnation
Make you yearn for elevation?
Do you strive and pace and no-one seems to care?

Are you thirsty with frustration?
Do you walk with hesitation?
You're unsure what it is, but it's not there?

There is hope and revelation
When you read your invitation
Its sender signed your name with His own hand

He will wake you from sedation
You will shout with jubilation!
And your spirit will be filled right where you stand

Parched lips will know cessation
When you drink in His salvation
Come and have your fill - it's all for free!

No cash accumulation
Can buy this liberation
The price was paid with blood upon a tree

You don't need qualification
Just humble supplication
His love for you was made known by decree

For the Lord of all creation
Wants your name in publication
In the Book of Life that sits upon His knee

Tom Meredith said...

Sorry. I forgot to leave contact details.

tomeredith71@gmail.com

Cheers

Tom

Bobby Tall Horse said...

Absolutely wonderful. Such a blessing.