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Keith Wallis

Poetry Challenge 2016

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Happy new year versifiers. New year, new challenge.

 

 

This year its Poetry relay again.

 

 

Again we will ALWAYS use a line from the previous poem. This time devise something starting with line 6 of the previous poets piece. It can be the whole line or a phrase from that line. Strating pooem below. Please ensure you are using the latest post as your start. Happy challenge fellow conspirators.

 

 

Advents

 

 

‘In the beginning’……

 

 

Was there ever a ‘beginning’

 

 

in this journey from Alpha to Omega

 

 

when the first and last juxtapose

 

 

and the greatest and least

 

 

spin upon an axis.

 

 

‘In the beginning the word’

 

 

spoken into a void

 

 

conjured significance

 

 

from nothing

 

 

and love and pain in tandem

 

 

begin their industry.

 

 

‘In the beginning’

 

 

uncreated light begat light

 

 

not with candle

 

 

gentle, unassuming, comfortable;

 

 

but with tidal dawn -

 

 

a birthing

 

 

bloody, confident, exposing.

 

 

And the end was the beginning

 

 

for the beginning

 

 

began

 

 

the end.

 

 

KW

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New Covenant

 

 

New Covenant, the axis

 

 

upon which sovereignty spins,

 

 

we, hidden with Christ in God,

 

 

where centrifugal force on our souls

 

 

shall never separate the Blood.

 

 

Let there be

 

 

stars to mark the mountains

 

 

cast by seeds of the faith.

 

 

Let there be

 

 

orbits veering to voluminous valleys

 

 

where trust in trial is not vanquished.

 

 

And we will proclaim, "Creator!"

 

 

where The Word revealed is adored.

 

 

All that has breath

 

 

shall breathe over the rest,

 

 

the language of Heaven, restore.

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Let there be

 

 

light and there was

 

 

brought into being because

 

 

light shows the way

 

 

through each gloomy day

 

 

rainbow and cross are enough

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Rainbow and cross

 

 

fellow covenants:

 

 

signatures

 

 

in subdued pastels

 

 

after the trial of water

 

 

and blatant blood

 

 

against a blackened sky

 

 

after the shortlived

 

 

unshriven triumph of darkness.

 

 

Rainbow and cross

 

 

twin emblems

 

 

of permanent

 

 

love.

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Blatant blood coursed in defiance,

 

 

long before Bethlehem's innocence.

 

 

Man shook his fist; God's would,

 

 

harder, though not as supposed.

 

 

Adam's self-destruction was nothing

 

 

in contrast to Christ,

 

 

Who took on Himself

 

 

devastation till blood stained sin

 

 

and our shock,

 

 

"IHS" stapled above*

 

 

this supreme act, our God.

 

 

Blatant blood bested our hate

 

 

by HIS love.

 

 

____________

 

 

* https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christogram

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In contrast to Christ,

 

 

The wicked Serpent deceives,

 

 

Enticing the unsuspecting seeker,

 

 

With his ripe but infected apple

 

 

Ready to bite without mercy,

 

 

Pouring his sting hot and deathly,

 

 

His blows hellish and lethal,

 

 

Targeting the weak and naïve in spirit,

 

 

Their soul to darken and to kill.

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Where, salvation snake, is your sting?

 

 

Not on those within the shelter of Mercy!

 

 

Oh, it's true about trials, tribulations,

 

 

but the Word has forewarned us to lean on protection.

 

 

It's clear what enrages you:

 

 

we're no angels of light, yet Christ's throne is in view.

 

 

Our breath of thanksgiving speaks of the life

 

 

to which we have passed, leaving death and your bite.

 

 

The Salvation Serpent of Moses

 

 

mars thorns with Godly roses.

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:

 

 

.

 

 

We’re no angels of light, yet Christ's throne is in view.

 

 

Here below, we struggle and faint.

 

 

Losing patience and hope—can our innocence be renewed?

 

 

We’re no angels of mercy, yet Christ’s provisions are real

 

 

Here below, we hustle and fight

 

 

Forgetting His Peace, we jostle to be the first at His Meal

 

 

We’re no angels of love, yet Christ’s power overtakes.

 

 

Here below, we cry and mourn

 

 

Falling to our sin, we heed Christ’s call: our lives to remake

 

 

Here below, life goes on.

 

 

Here below we fall and die.

 

 

We are no angels, but even so,

 

 

Here below, we yearn for Christ’s throne.

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We jostle for a taste of his meal,

 

 

to sip the best, new wine.

 

 

Thank Abba He does not

 

 

draw a chalk line to see how we walk

 

 

in our staggering self-indulgence,

 

 

unwashed feet all around.

 

 

Thank Abba He doesn't

 

 

throw away the towel

 

 

but extends it till the repentant

 

 

grab and clutch it to their chests,

 

 

glad that adoption

 

 

expects of family sheer good.

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Unwashed feet all around with

 

 

Uncombed hair all covered in sweat as

 

 

Grimy hands reach into the air

 

 

Lo, into the air, those grimy hands reach

 

 

Above the uncombed hair and the unwashed feet

 

 

Of happy tired children who, in warm sunshine played

 

 

In warm sunshine they played, all glad-hearted and free

 

 

Running, singing, chasing and dancing

 

 

Free to be children, far from their city’s gloom

 

 

Far from the city’s gloom, now into a circle they gather

 

 

Though hot, thirsty and tired

 

 

Ready to leave, yet one task remains

 

 

See, one task remains as arms reach to sky

 

 

“Praise God”, the adult leader speaks and

 

 

Just for a moment all become still

 

 

All become still, for a prayer has begun

 

 

Thanking their God for the warm happy sun

 

 

That allowed them to be just kids for a day.

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We jostle for a taste of his meal,

to sip the best, new wine.

 

 

Thank Abba He does not

 

 

draw a chalk line to see how we walk

 

 

in our staggering self-indulgence,

 

 

unwashed feet all around.

 

 

Thank Abba He doesn't

 

 

throw away the towel

 

 

but extends it till the repentant

 

 

grab and clutch it to their chests,

 

 

glad that adoption

 

 

expects of family sheer good.

 

Wow. . ."unwashed feet. . ." that is a difficult line to begin a religious poem with

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Of happy tired children who, in warm sunshine played

 

 

never dreaming of adulthood, their awakening delayed.

 

 

They danced around the mulberries and chocolatey mud pies

 

 

Theirs was not to question, the wonders or the whys.

 

 

Subtly life preceded as they followed the marching band

 

 

and all at once they understood the words of Peter Pan...:eek:

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Mulberry musings unchecked,

 

 

delayed awakenings.

 

 

Van Winklian beards cling down to their chests.

 

 

The rarely-trod Pentecost road,

 

 

fairly few passers-by,

 

 

unheralded dirt caking their toes.

 

 

Once in a while

 

 

a gaggle of children go rogue,

 

 

leave Jack in his corner and Jill for a home.

 

 

Along the way,

 

 

singing, "Come with a new heart,

 

 

leave Oz and Kansas, be rainbow-brave.

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With unheralded dirt caking their toes,

 

 

Did they wish they had listened to Noah?

 

 

Wailing and howling with both friends and foes,

 

 

Could these sinners have sunk any lower?

 

 

Their thoughts so far wicked, both day and night,

 

 

God then repenting of making mankind.

 

 

If they’d repented and lived by the light,

 

 

Would they be in such a perilous bind?

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God then, repenting of making mankind

 

 

Favoured Noah,

 

 

faith counted as righteousness

 

 

and the rainbow was born

 

 

for a special reason

 

 

and in any season

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Rainbow born, flood-wrath dead,

 

 

Noah popped the lid for hope and breath.

 

 

Ground gone dry, waters fled

 

 

to their pools of boundaried 

 

 

dread.

 

 

Wood upon Mount Ararat,

 

 

prefigured cross on Jesus's back.

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prefigured cross on Jesus's back.

 

 

before the dawn of time

 

 

love exists always will

 

 

only once the climb

 

 

up Calvarys hill

 

 

drank fourth cup 'til

 

 

it is finished 

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drank fourth cup 'til

 

 

he'd done the Fathers will

 

 

once again

 

 

communion's restored

 

 

now talk every day

 

 

Jesus is the Way 

 

 

paid the price

 

 

we could not afford

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Jesus is the way

 

 

(by which we

 

 

who can never earn)

 

 

to salvation.

 

 

He watches over our struggles

 

 

while we wallow in our failures,

 

 

always trying

 

 

to gently direct us

 

 

in His way

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He watches over our struggles

 

 

He sees our every need

 

 

He knows our frame and yet, He loves

 

 

'Spite action, word and deed.

 

 

His heart must suffer with sadness

 

 

Who views our anguished soul

 

 

He is the balm, the healing touch

 

 

If we would be made whole.

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Who views our anguished soul

 

 

when we lie cowering in shadows of despair?

 

 

When we cannot stand before

 

 

the reflection

 

 

of what we are,

 

 

or who we've become.

 

 

Who views our anguished soul

 

 

when we feel unworthy to pray?

 

 

When we feel that life has taken

 

 

the best we had to give

 

 

and left us

 

 

abused in its wake.

 

 

Who views our anguished soul

 

 

from the wooden scaffolding of another creed?

 

 

Who stretched out His arms

 

 

to embrace all our sins?

 

 

Who allowed His hands to be nailed in place

 

 

so that we might be saved?

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Who views our anguished soul

 

 

when we lie cowering in shadows of despair?

 

 

When we cannot stand before

 

 

the reflection

 

 

of what we are,

 

 

or who we've become.

 

 

Who views our anguished soul

 

 

when we feel unworthy to pray?

 

 

When we feel that life has taken

 

 

the best we had to give

 

 

and left us

 

 

abused in its wake.

 

 

Who views our anguished soul

 

 

from the wooden scaffolding of another creed?

 

 

Who stretched out His arms

 

 

to embrace all our sins?

 

 

Who allowed His hands to be nailed in place

 

 

so that we might be saved?

 

 

 

 

 

 

I I love the way you took the statement and turned it into a number of deeply searching questions :)

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(going back to the goal, to start by borrowing from the previous post's 6th line)

 

 

Who we've become,

that,

measured against Blood and water

sacraments.

For it is all by grace,

in the Church,

outside four walls,

within its walled security

first.

More like an ark,

His,

the Bride-Groom pairing,

covenant.

Who we are in Him,

this,

unlimited life together,

justice gaveled by a mercy fist.

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