Love II

Love II

A sonnet for Good Friday.

The lengths to which Love goes, none will prevent;
It spans and stretches out to such a reach
That it tears itself, pulls apart, is rent
By passion and yearning to bridge the breach.

To mountain tops rising, Love’s light as air
It mounts with eagle’s wings, climbs to the heights;
Brazenly bold, it blushes not when men stare,
A hopeful morning star shining in night.

Love declares, kneels down, asks for thy hand;
Humbles himself, takes the lowest place;
Pleads for his friends, makes no demand,
Pays out their debt, shares their disgrace.

Love paid the rent, climbed the mount, bore the shame.
Took his love as a bride gives her a new name.

© Randall Edwards 2018.
This poem is for Christ’s church. If it is helpful, please feel free to copy or reprint in church bulletins, read aloud, or repost. I only ask that an attribution be cited to myself (Randall Edwards) and this blog (backwardmutters.com). Thanks.

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Artwork: “Love” abstract weaving by © Jennifer Edwards 2017, (jenniferedwards.com) Photo by Hazel Kuehn. Used with permission.

Love

Love

A sonnet for Maundy Thursday.

Love waited patiently, persevered long
Sleepless nights while I wandered far in sin
Chasing the promise of some Siren’s song,
Took me back as a son not some has been.

When I (for once) received the sought blessing,
Love envied not, did not poison or pout,
Did not upstage, divert through finessing
To make their own things what it was about.

And when weary with worry, Love still stays,
Keeps no record of wrongs or resentments,
But rejoices with the truth bears always
Faithful, hopeful, enduring contentment.

That I may be clean, free, in rightness stand,
Love kneeled down took my dirty sole in hand.

© Randall Edwards 2018.
This poem is for Christ’s church. If it is helpful, please feel free to copy or reprint in church bulletins, read aloud, or repost. I only ask that an attribution be cited to myself (Randall Edwards) and this blog (backwardmutters.com). Thanks.

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Artwork: “Love” abstract weaving © Jennifer Edwards 2017, (jenniferedwards.com) Photo by Hazel Kuehn. Used with permission.

The Widow’s Best

The Widow’s Best

Reposting for Holy Week.

Jesus looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the offering box, 2 and he saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. 3 And he said, “Truly, I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them. 4 For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.”
Luke 21:1-4

From her poverty she gave more than they
Who gave of their wealth, who gave from their best;
All she had to live on, she gave away.

Their offering was a giving display
Giving to show they had more than the rest;
From her poverty, she gave more than they.

For they fill their hearts with what others say
The real treasure buried ‘neath their vest;
All she had to live on, she gave away.

The crashing of shekels like a surf’s spray
Washes in praise as they empty their chests;
From her poverty, she gave more than they.

Round the Temple’s court, the Rabbi’s eyes stray
To one who gives from how much she’s been blessed;
All she had to live on she gave away.

He wonders at one who gives, freely lays
Down her living, no trouble or unrest;
From her poverty, she gave more than they
All she had to live on, she gave away.

© Randy Edwards 2017.
This poem is for Christ’s church. If it is helpful, please feel free to copy or reprint in church bulletins, read aloud, or repost. I only ask that an attribution be cited to myself (Randall Edwards) and this blog (backwardmutters.com). Thanks.
Artwork: James Tissot, The Widow’s Mite (Le denier de la veuve), Created: between 1886- and 1894, Brooklyn Museum