• [CHRISTIA] new poetry, "A Little Dusting and Pruning"

    From Mark@1:396/4 to Practical Christian Life on Sun Jun 14 12:57:45 2020
    From: lamppoet@CENTURYTEL.NET (Mark)

    Taking notice.



    "A Little Dusting and Pruning"



    ("You know that the day after tomorrow is the day of the Passover Feast. On that day the Son of Man will be given to his enemies to be crucified."
    Matthew 26:2)



    If the earth had stopped turning, or something even stranger,
    we would have noticed it more than the posthole dug
    on a Friday morning
    awaiting the mixed sounds of mobs and mourning.



    Like a thread wound round the earth, a thousand times and more,
    the inner coils of an electric motor, the strands have surrounded the
    inner core. And so, seas and continents are touched by the cruelest hoax
    man thought he had ever devised.



    The surefire method to rid the world of madman prophets is to
    kill their sorry message with the breaking of their bones and heart.
    And, so many succumbed to angry passion, some drank their own poison,
    and followers fell at their feet, then drifted, then disappeared like rain clouds
    that threatened a month of monsoons.



    But, the One, the Son of Man was put down the same way by enemies
    who grew religion alongside their houseplants in the windows.
    A little water, a little dusting and pruning the dead growth just before company comes; a faith well-suited for entitled classes who need a way
    to keep the masses abated.



    But truth is longer than potting soil, heaven deeper than pop-song worship.
    And so, before the event upon the next dark Friday, perhaps a child would
    kick a clod unknowingly
    into the posthole made ready for a dead trunk of a tree
    to root for a day while its fruit hung, and slowly dropped in agony.



    Few call it victory, all know its name; Calvary, a skull-place is where
    hate and sin were defaced by death. For, when He breathed His last,
    gave up the spirit and said, "Father, into Your hands
    I commit my Spirit", he carried, in all his ugly scars,
    every wound of the world to healing. Yet, unregarded by many,



    There are still those who, supposing control is better than conversion,
    tend their houseplant daily, keep up appearances, and sway the masses
    to war. The Prince of Peace still is weeping.





    Appearing,

    mark p.

    lamppoet@centurytel.net



    Mark's Blog

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