Friday, October 20, 2017

The rending

After Isaiah 63-64

That the heavens would be rent,
torn apart, sundered, as you descended
the mountains, shaking, the forests
ablaze, the waters boiling,
the nations quaking,
this we did not anticipate.

We shrivel as we quake,
leaves and flowers scorched
in the sun, swept away
by the wind of violence

Only then do we become clay,
only then do we become ready
to be worked by hands holier
than our own

Photograph by hey!Andrw via Unsplash. Used with permission.

1 comment:

Martha Jane Orlando said...

Amen, Glynn, amen! Every time I read your poems, I stand in awe.