Isaiah 40

This past Advent and Christmas season, the Almond Tree Artist Collective has been engaged in creating works based on weekly prompts taken from Isaiah 40:1-5 which reads,

Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
  and cry to her
that her warfare is ended,
that her iniquity is pardoned,
  that she has received from the LORD’S hand
double for all her sins.

A voice cries:
“In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD;
  make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be lifted up,
  and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
  and the rough places a plain.
And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed,
  and all flesh shall see it together,
  for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.”
I. Comfort

When all the world has been torn down,
When all Her glory, lost,
Speak Comfort, Comfort to the town
Who to the sea was tossed.

Away in chains to Babylon
Her townsfolk, tied and led
Cast from the garden land and home
Into a living death.

We pass through sea, to foreign lands
Where accents strike our ears,
We pine by banks beached on the sand
And salt its shore with tears.

They asked of us to sing a song—
A song we sang in Zion;
We choke on words, weep for the wrongs,
The shame of Judah’s lion.

Speak, Comfort, Comfort, to my own
The Lord says, tenderly,
To Jerusalem cast down
I’ll draw her from the sea.

II. Proclaim

Proclaim to her, say it now,
Mercy comes tomorrow;
He’ll break your yoke, unhook the plough,
Wipe your tears of sorrow.

Speak Comfort, Comfort, day has come
Your ransom’s paid in full;
Your time of service is now done;
The balance paid, double.

It’s finished; Yes, there is no more—
Both debt and due are paid;
Your Hope through Achor’s valley door
Has made for you a way.

Daughter Jerusalem, my son,
Judah, come take my hand;
The blessing lost, I now have won—
Return you to the Land.

IIII. Wilderness

A desert voice, a herald cries,
Prepare, Prepare today
Come, by Him who lives yet dies
Come through the desert way.

Through death, not ‘round, your victory
Not by the coastal road—
A straight highway through desert sea,
The highway of our God.

Elijah, come and turn the hearts
Of fathers to the children;
Desire pierce with longing’s darts
Wound with love, the nations.

Make straight the way from Galilee
The land of the Gentiles,
From nations far beyond the Sea
Return from your exile.

Comfort, Comfort prepare the way—
A highway for our God;
Come by the narrow, Eastern way
Back from the land of Nod.

IV. Justice

From Euphrates’ garden banks
Pack your years of burdens
Return, Return, join with the ranks
Who take to Him their hurtings.

When you come to the desert shore
Fear not the waves of sand,
He shall level the desert floor,
Return you to the Land.

Look not to the mountain’s heights
Where others lay idle,
And give themselves to their delights,
Revelry, unbridled.

He shall bring down the proud who boast
And lift up the lowly;
He shall make of least, the most—
Make the common, holy.

But what of death’s deep, dark defile?
How can we e’er pass through?
Though our descent goes on for miles,
In life, He’ll raise unto.

The valley’s shall exalted be;
The mountains shall be lowed;
Enslaved, her captives shall be freed,
And gentle made the road.

She’ll mount on wings, shall fly amain,
Renewed, soar as eagles
The mountain way be made a plain
Those Not, now made, My People.

V. Glory

And all of them shall surely see
My Glory when revealed;
The Way that passes through the sea—
The stripes He bore that healed.

The glory I’ve to show the world
Is glory not of man,
A banquet banner, love unfurled,
Crowned head, pierced feet and hand.

Will you perceive the love I bear
Or of it be ashamed?
Shall in it boast? Cherish? Hold dear?
Lift up? Deny? Disclaim?

True, the Word the Lord has spoken,
Shall surely come to pass;
His promise shall ne’er be broken;
He shall redeem at last.

Speak Comfort, Comfort, tenderly,
Your Lord shall bring you home;
He shall not burden but gently lead
The mothers with their young.

© Randall Edwards 2023

The Water Who Thirsted

Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about the sixth hour. When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” 
John 4:6-7 

You may listen to me read the poem via the player below.

Thirsty, the Water asked of the woman
Who came to the well in the day’s heat,
“A drink, please,” though she, a Samaritan,
Not caring if it seemed indiscreet.

“But you have nothing by which I may draw
Water for you. Though it’s clean, still it’s deep.”
He pulled me with questions as if to call
Me out of the depths, rouse me from sleep.

Yet thirsty I was and to Water spoke:
My heart leaked with words, confession poured out;
Faith ebbed and pooled till my suspicion broke
To flood me with joy as love soaked my doubts.

And drinking, I am filled, full as the sea
Because of the water who thirsted for me.

Randall Edwards 2022
Artwork: James Tissot (French, 1836-1902). The Woman of Samaria at the Well (La Samaritaine à la fontaine), 1886-1894. Opaque watercolor over graphite on gray wove paper, Image: 10 5/16 x 14 13/16 in. (26.2 x 37.6 cm). Brooklyn Museum, Purchased by public subscription, 00.159.69 (Photo: Brooklyn Museum, 00.159.69_PS2.jpg)
#gospelofjohn#thepoetrypub#poetry

Day 4: Transition

(transiens) “passing over or away,” present participle of transire “cross over, go over, pass over, hasten over, pass away,” from trans “across, beyond” (see trans-) + ire “to go” (from PIE root *ei- “to go”). Meaning “passing through a place without staying”

I’m catching up a bit on the November Poem a Day Challenge.

“Transition,” to me, does not sound appealing;
It reminds me of friends who have gone or are leaving,
It reminds me too much of the lingering pain
Of those whom I love and am grieving.

Transition has too often been used to describe
My friends who lie in beds hospitalized,
Whom I visit with, counsel, and pray;
But who in the end, transition and die.

“Transition” speaks of a lightness of being
That life is received not grabbed for keeping,
Is held with palms open till it goes away,
Billows in fullness but like a cloud, fleeting.

I long for the Time when transition goes away
And Time says, No hurry. Have a seat. Stay.

© Randall Edwards 2021.

Too Many

Day 16’s prompt is Too Many. I play around a bit with the meaning.

Too many”
As in there is “also much”
And sometimes there are also “few”
Of which it might be said there are too.

But who
Could say that there are too many
Things to be thankful for?
Too many blessings you’ve let walk through the door?
Too many people who love you, people galore?
Too many that you couldn’t use more?

You are not alone because there are too,
Many people longing for a place like you,
Too many people living afraid that there are too few
Who have room for another friend and who
Don’t have the faith to stick with it through
Thick and thin and to do so with you.

If you think you’re alone, you are not
Cause I am one and we are two,
And there are many more of us too.

© Randall Edwards 2021.

Pass the Piece Discussion

My wife, Jennifer, and I had a lovely discussion with artist Dawn Waters Baker about our Pass the Piece collaborative art project sponsored by Rabbit Room.