Elijah

They watch me build the altar,

Setting stones one by one.

Rock by rock I raise this pyre

Praying God will light the fire.

I thrust my spade into dry ground

Moving earth on every side.

The sand and rock piles high and steep.

The trench descends three gallons deep.

I lay the wood I hope will burn

The sacrificial beast.

An image once of strength and might.

It’s eyes now fade with dying light. 

I’ve finished now what I’ve begun,

Save to douse all chance of fire’s natural rise.

What happens next must be divine.

Lest people think the glory mine.

Great God of many names!

You alone – Ignite the flame!

Cleanse dull minds that all may see:

This is of you, and not of me.

The fire flashes, blinding, bright.

All eyes go dim, and then, true sight.

I am reduced to clay and sod.

The cry goes forth, ‘Yahweh is God.’

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

(Inspired by 1 Kings 18:20-39).

Meditation on John 19:28-30

Jesus knew that his mission was now finished, and to fulfill scripture, he said, ‘I am thirsty.’ A jar of sour wine was sitting there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put it on a hyssop branch, and held it up to his lips. When Jesus had tasted it, he said, ‘It is finished.’ Then he bowed his head and released his Spirit.

What is a man to do,

When given sour wine?

When bitter grapes replace the sweet?

When innocence and violence meet?

When anger rises in his breast?

When those around him serve up death?

There was a man

Who cried with thirst

Under a blackened sky.

They offered him such bitter drink

And stood to watch him die.

Yet tasting it

He did not spit

Nor call out for their blood.

He spoke a prayer,

Then bowed his head,

And gave his life to God.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Election Day

‘In this dark hour, I do not believe that any darkness will endure’ – Faramir of Gondor

I offer these poems to anyone who may be dreading the worst today. I pray that even as they acknowledge the possibility of darkness, they point you toward the light.

Autocracy’s Rise

The darkening skies descend.

The unsuspecting masses blink

As trembling prophets absorb

What they knew would come.

For them, the expected death

Of what they once held dear.

They brace, for loss, for ruin,

And the marching feet of doom.

They know, that past is prologue,

As the behemoth takes its place

At the vanguard of a chilling dread

That now hangs over all.

Yet this they know, deeply:

That all will not be lost.

For all cannot be taken.

There is still that which abides,

Which nothing can filch or harm,

Beyond the dragon’s reach.

There is faith,

The substance of hope.

And love beyond imagining.

The forest, filled with wild.

Music, to dance to, to fuel desire.

For eternity. For Life.

There is the present moment.

To savor, bless, and know.

And in that moment God,

Ever-present. Constant. True.

Pointing the way forward. On!

Presence. Protection. Peace.

Is this not what matters,

Most of all, when all else fails?

To know that in such days

The best cannot be broken?

That in the end the sadness

Comes untrue, and love wins?

Oh Blessed One who stills my soul!

Let me not forget these truths.

And when the sky is darkest,

Let me feel your smile,

That I may brave the tempest,

Shielded by thy perfect love.

For Election Day

I have no earthly ruler

No President to claim

I serve the one who is the King

The name above all names.

The empire is a monster

A snarling, fearful beast

Like Grendel or Polyphemus

On mortal flesh it feasts.

Perhaps once I thought otherwise

That it was true and brave

I know it now for what it is:

It reeks of death and grave.

The times they are so fearful

Dreadful, dank, and dark

The leopard beast is on the march

As ‘lambs’ now wear its mark.

And yet I have no need to fear

Though all I once knew fails

My life is in the hands of Christ

Whose Kingdom will prevail.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Barabbas

Fearful warrior

Defiant, Strong

Thy fist raised high in might

Thy head is bloodied, yet unbowed

Thine minions steeled to fight.

What hope exists

Now for the weak

When protest fades to silence?

When violent men may now denounce

The peaceful as the violent?

And so the people

Raise the crown

Prepared to make thee master.

Prepared to toss aside the good

For methods that seem faster.

So did the masses

Long years past

Do as they chose the violent

Over the one who took the cross,

And bore their sin in silence.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent