“The invisible things of him”

Well, it’s hard to believe, but this is apparently my 500th post here at The Consolations of Writing. It’s been quite an amazing couple of years since I set up this site, and I’m very grateful to have wonderful readers to share it with.

Today’s poem comes out of a Bible study that I am leading tonight on Romans. In my attempt to understand it, I’ve looked back to Genesis, a place which Marianne Moore’s poetry has already taken me to this month. I have found it comforting and helpful to go back to the beginnings of God’s story and to see in that moment the way that the big picture of salvation slowly unfolds out of our weakness and failure.

“The invisible things of him from the creation of the world”

Fruit glistened in the garden with
            the rising of the mist,
and all was golden, fresh-green, hopeful
           in its naked, shameless days.
There wisdom grew its faithful flowers
           and put seeds in fruit, the
Tree of Life’s triumphant bough
            an arch, a bow across us;
what knowledge that we needed, we found
            in hand-in-hand walking,
truth of trees and seasons, flowers’ names,
            the songs of hours.
And what was seen in the sky,
            what walked amongst us on
the garden’s paths, we knew as truth,
            sufficient unto the day:
a righteousness revealed in days
            ordered and perfect like
each one before, and worship-choirs
            heard on these breezy nights;
a righteous trust that held the hand
            of its Father-Maker in
the garden of its making, where
            nothing else need rule.
Still, fruit glistened in the garden with
            the rising of our dreams,
thoughts that burned like snake-bites in
            our wisdom-longing minds,
where what was seen, invisible –
            though all that we need know –
was not enough for our yearning throats
            that surely would not die.

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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