Friday, March 07, 2014

A Poem Draft and a Poem Re-Draft

Countertime

The way of love a circle runs
from heart to heart to bind them both,
unending flame, eternal ring,
that like the bush unburned yet burns,
undying. With a lightning blaze,
like blood it circles on the road.
Who loves will fight again to gain
new hope, will rise again to fight
until the loved can know the good,
again, again, with strength of faith
that trusts that love will never fail,
that holds to love to reach its goal.
Though war may weary, soldiers bear
their burdens, crawling if they must;
so lovers, though their hearts may bleed,
endure against a world gone mad,
and do the good, and good things make,
and save; no steel makes stronger bonds.
Though cycles never end, yet love will work;
again it will remake the world.

Dragon Psalm

Earth shakes, mountains tremble;
they reel at the flaring of wrath,
like water boiling on fire.
Smoke rises from his nostrils,
fire pours from his mouth;
kindled stones like coals pour forth.

Before him is devouring fire;
it whirls about him, mighty tempest.
He touches mountains and they smoke.
Hills and stones melt like wax;
his foes are all consumed.
Drowning fire precedes; it storms around him.
He comes! He is not silent.
The bed of the sea is uncovered,
the world's foundations laid bare,
at the Lord's roar, the storm of his breath.

The heavens are shaken, rent,
darkness is under his feet.
He is borne on wings of wind.
The eternal mountains are shattered;
fragments of hills pave his way.
The tempest-winds are his angels;
fire and flame are his servants.
Before him goes lightning and splendor;
the earth sees and quakes.
He rains down flame and coals of fire,
sends the wicked a scorching wind. Selah.

A fire consumes before him;
clouds and thick darkness surround him,
they sweep on with hail of fire.
Mountains that see him quiver;
raging waters cower in fear;
the deep gives forth a groaning voice;
stars stand still on high.
He crushes the head of the wicked;
his arrows of light shoot forth,
his lightning a glittering spear.

I was drowning in deep waters.
He drew me out and saved me;
he destroyed the demons of the sea.
His wings are wings of morning;
the heavens glow with his breath, aflame.
The mountains bow down before him
that they may declare his justice:
the Lord of hosts is his name. Hallelujah!

1 comment:

  1. Itinérante8:02 AM

    Those are two very wonderful strong hopeful poems!


    Have you ever thought of giving your poems a melody?

    ReplyDelete

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