Dark

The Return

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The earth is gods and goblins ev’rywhere,
Host of antagonists attacking good
Through counterfeit and subterfuge, like wood
Too wet or rotten to be useful, fair
Of form but fearsome, felling those who dare
Distrust the king, stand where the prince has stood,
Lay claim the throne as if they ever could
Create, control, or care. But though the air
Be dark with smoke, there blows a hopeful breeze
That parts at points the shroud and shows the sky
And lets in light and warmth and something more:
A whisper of an answer to our pleas.
The king’s return is sure and drawing nigh.
He will arrive and bring an end to war.

Photo by Kym MacKinnon on Unsplash

Day 8: Equinox

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And in these darker days late in the year,
When night falls sooner and we feel the chill
Of autumn in each breeze, we start with fear
But find amidst the ghosts and ghouls goodwill
As families and friends come out to play
And share some goodies too. Then as the air
Grows dry and cold, we mourn the loss of day
Yet turn to thanks, in fellowship and pray’r
And much good food. And then we put up lights
To fill the longest nights with hope and cheer.
The season’s stories, smells, tastes, sounds, and sights
Bring warmth unparalleled to end the year.
It’s true, the light is lesser now, but hark!
The angel’s song still sounds here in the dark!

Photo by Kenrick Mills on Unsplash

Christmastime

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A season for the memory of birth
Against the backdrop of a world of death.
A promised king of everlasting worth
In swaddling cloths, now taking his first breath.

A season for the sparkling of light
In contrast to the darkness of these days,
Reflections of the angel’s sign that night,
The hope of rest beyond all holidays.

A season for the fellowship of friends,
For reconciling wrongs and all division,
All rooted in the love that never ends
And growing up into the heav’nly vision.

A season for the change of old to new.
A season for the stories ringing true.

Photo by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash

Light Remains

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God said, “Let there be light,” and so it was.
And thus it has continued to this day.
Night threatens darkness, but it never does
Persist. The deepest shadow fades away.

God said, “Let there be Light.” A Son was born,
And truth and beauty shone throughout the land.
Self-blinded men loved death, but still the morn
Arrived. Christ rose and raised dry bones to stand.

God said, “Let there be light,” and I could see
As love cut through all lies with things more true.
My love is weak. He knows and still calls me
His own. The old has passed, and I am new.

We have this hope when grieved by present pains:
When God shines light in darkness, light remains.

Photo by Dyu – Ha on Unsplash

The Music

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isaac-ibbott-198404-unsplash

The dissonance resounds
As all attempt to sing
A song of their own making.
Disorder now abounds
For all forget the king
(A fatal undertaking).
We sing our dirge till death
Yet sing with all our might,
Our very voices breaking.
With ev’ry selfish breath,
We shrink away from light
To try to stop the aching.
But light shines in the dark,
And dark cannot resist.
The kingdom is advancing.
There is a holy ark.
With joy, we may subsist.
Salvation comes with dancing.
Amidst the rebel choir,
A melody is heard
That rings throughout creation.
The true composer’s ire
Fell full upon the word:
Perfect propitiation.
The ransomed sing his song
Now knowing it involves
The rescue of the dying.
Though so much now seems wrong,
The song at last resolves:
Unending glorifying.

Photo by Isaac Ibbott on Unsplash

All Along

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The Lamb, The Lion.jpg

The sacrificial lamb was laid upon
The altar by the hands of wicked men,
And all was dark the days before the dawn
In the apparent victory of sin.
The lesser lion, seeking to devour,
Set his assault against the sacred son,
And Satan, in the darkness of the hour,
Was certain that the victory was won.
And so it was, but not for his array.
The cross of Christ displayed for all to see
That Satan’s claim to power had been wrong.
The finished hunter had become the prey.
The word made flesh fulfilled the prophecy.
The lamb had been a lion all along.

Photo by lydia harper on Unsplash

Labyrinth (Allegorical)

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Labyrinth photo.jpg

This world is but a labyrinth of lies,
And all of us are seeking an escape
From tunnels which resound with wretched cries,
From sights which leave our speechless mouths agape.
Within this maze there walks a wicked foe
Who wills to tear apart and to devour.
This minotaur in darkness down below
Is claiming lives with ev’ry passing hour.
In vain do we attempt to hide away
From him in hope that we will yet survive.
We tell each other stories of the day
As one by one we cease to be alive.
We cry out for our Theseus to fight
And save us from the terror of the night.