Nine Quatrains (Easter Vigil)

And so, the domes and waters in their place,
He made His image-bearers shine His face.
He looked on them and called them very good
Who only trusted what they understood.
The domes thrown into disarray to flood
The earth and turn the man of dust to mud.
Yet one remains to carry on the seed;
An olive branch; a bow turned on its head.
And in the thicket stands a captured ram,
Where God Himself, he sees, supplied the lamb.
And so the sovereign promise lingers on
For he has not withheld his only son.
Yet, though with outstretched arm and mighty hand
He turns the writhing sea into dry land,
Still they long for Egypt’s comfort food
And turn to dust what once was very good.
So over desert sands this call resounds:
To seek the Lord yet while he may be found.
A cry: listen, listen, eat what is good
And let your soul delight in His pure food.
And at the portal’s entrance here she stands
Drawing in the foolish with her hands,
Calling simple ones to come and live
And eat from hands which long always to give.
Though stony hearts stand back and leave the feast,
His breath still calls as far as west from east
And beckons in His once-good people who
Can only offer Him old hearts for new.
Breathing over valleys of dead bones,
He takes these skeleton remains and turns
The dead into an army marching wide
To bring back to Him those now dead and dried.
And so in broken waiting sing aloud
For He who gathers waters in the clouds
Gathers in the outcast and the lame
And fashions praises out of our dead shame.

Published by Matthew Pullar

Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.

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