GRACE (YET AGAIN)

Here His grace
Is complete:
On my face
At His feet.

17/03/2019 

More around Culzean Castle in Ayrshire, Scotland

GRACE (again)

 

If Grace rowed to me

in my struck brig

I found that Grace

had watched for me before.

If Grace had set the light

to my distant ship

Grace set the fire

for my rescued self. 

When I turned my back

on the sun

Next morning there it was

blazing in my face.

Before Grace nursed me

to good health

It was Grace whose scalpel

had wounded me.

When grace upon grace

pulsed through my arteries

It was Grace which held

the syringe.

If Grace fed me richly

in the Father’s house

Grace in the far country

had brought my famine.

Though Grace gave me rags

in the far country

Come into the Father’s house

it clothed my richly.

While Grace made me know sonship

in the Father’s house

Grace had seen, in the far country, 

me as a son.

After Grace comforted me

when I was sad

Grace preserved me

when I was happy.

If Grace provided a repast,

free of labour,

Grace taught me how to hunt,

to flay and to cook.

Since Grace guided me

in sowing

Grace helped me

in harvesting.

How right that when Grace

paid dearly for my ransom

Grace should acquire me

as its bondman.

As it was Grace that filled me

with the new wine

It was Grace that created

my new skin. 22002

When I wrote this, and the previous poem, I think that I had the story of Grace Darling in mind: Grace Darling.

Inside or looking out of Culzean Castle (have you spotted the Lego person?)

GRACE

 

When I was battered on a rugged shore

Grace took the oars, braved waves, and rescued me;

Grace had prepared both light and warmth before

My chartless ventures on the sullen sea.

I drew my burnt hand from the savage flame

Since grace had given me my sense of pain;

Grace salved my wounded hand, grace took the blame,

Grace held me back lest I should burn again.

Grace was the policeman who arrested me,

The coastguard who observed my zigzag course,

The fireman who has rushed to cut me free,

The surgeon who exposed my gangrene’s source.

And grace has served me that I might be shown

The throne of grace, with grace upon the throne.

Around Culzean Castle, Ayrshire

SHEPHERD

 

Struggling through the biting winds
He visited
Those about to perish.

Through harsh thorns and clogging mud
He sought
That which was strayed away.

In chilling nights and cracking rain
He healed the wounded,
Fed the sound.

He is the worthy shepherd
That does not leave his flock.

(Compare Zechariah 11:16)

A Trip to the South West

The Firth of Clyde and the Isle of Arran.