All the Books of the World (Lent Poems 40)

And all the books in all the worlds
Could not contain his words,
And all the paper of all the trees and
All the ink of every pen
Could never capture all the Word,
And all the waters of all earth’s
Imaginable seas could not
Stretch far enough to show us how
Far and deep his love has gone
To find us, who were hidden in
The caverns of our darkest sin.
And all the heights of all these waves
Could not reach the heavens where
He came from, he who made
These waters and who calmed them,
Sailed them, caught their fish;
And all our water could not cleanse
What he has washed now with his blood,
And all these words can only hope
To stand like beacons, on the shore,
Small pulses of his brightest light
To guide all sailors, safe unto him,
Now unto him,
Now unto the king…

2 thoughts on “All the Books of the World (Lent Poems 40)

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