THE

The words banner forth

Boldly expressive:

The Lord, the Christ, the Son of God,

The Son of Man, the Shepherd.

Substitute "a" for "the" -

And the fabric is grounded,

Like a banner

With no flagpole.

Alone the word "the" is gaunt

As an unused staff.

O Lord, help me to be

A definite article!

CHOICES

One Person did the Father’s will

And answered to His voice;

Lord Jesus, how our beings thrill

To Thee, the Father’s choice.

But now we know that we are those

Who, ere the world began,

The Father, for His pleasure, chose

For favour in that Man.

So let us choose the Father’s way

In hearkening to the Son

That Christ may give us, in His day,

The accolade “Well done”.

ORBITS

I am no wandering star

Headlong moving with levity

To destruction.

But I can move in a vast

Elliptical orbit - glowing when near the Sun, cold

When a distant comet

At the fringe of attraction.

Help me, my Sun,

To be a planet ideally

Circling, heat, light and attraction

At their optimum - where grace

Has placed me.

MEPHIBOSHETH

Marred; weak; afar; with the opprobrium

Of the rejected race... to catalogue

My blemishes would take too long; in sum

Encompass all in three words - “a dead dog”.

Mercy has reached me; grace has brought me near;

Kindness has given me a prince’s seat

And riches; perfect love has cast out fear:

The King Himself has made my bliss complete.

So if He is rejected in this world,

And the rebellious challenge has been hurled:

“We will not have this Man to reign”, should I

Follow that trend? Surely I must deny

Myself, and, till my Sovereign comes again,

Live in the consciousness that “He must reign”.

PLANTS

From the gnarled bush

Only another thorn: “Away with

This man!”

One quickly-fading leaf

From a dry tree: “I find no fault

In this man.”

But, in the rocks, a miracle -

One perfect bloom: “Have nothing to do with

That righteous man”.

Or from a dying thorn-tree

One tender flower: “This man

Has done nothing amiss.”

A stark tree puts out

One bud - “This man

Was just!”.

It blossoms:

“Truly this man

Was Son of God”.

A plethora of colour

Burgeons - “God has made this Jesus

Both Lord and Christ”.

PETER

Adjusted by Christ’s might in the creation,

Beside the feet of Jesus Peter knelt

Acknowledging the sinfulness he felt.

Adjusted by the Father’s revelation

He found the humble Carpenter who trod

Beside him was the Christ, the Son of God.

Adjusted by severeness of rebuke

He learned that Christ was ready to fulfil,

Cost what it would, the details of God’s will.

Adjusted by the glory of the Father

He heard that no man’s glory might be linked

With Christ since the Beloved is distinct.

Adjusted by the Master’s loving look

Appreciation of his vileness swept

Across his being, and he turned and wept.

Adjusted by the Shepherd’s yen to gather

He came with those whom Jesus folded in

To form a circle Christ could come within.

GARMENT

Day by day His actions

Wove one seamless garment -

You could not unpick

One shade from another.

Perhaps you could distinguish

Colours of grace, shades of love,

Textures of righteousness - yet never

Unseam mercy from judgment.

But who was weaving?

Each movement in manhood

Consonant with who He is

Was under the Father’s direction -

Woven from the top.

SCOTT’S VIEW

Stopping each time he passed that way to trace

God’s workmanship in river, tree and hill

The poet frequently renewed the thrill

Which toil and worry struggled to efface.

The horses which had pulled and stopped his chaise

Finally pulled his hearse; and they were still

As subject to their absent master’s will

When they arrived at that familiar place.

I have a Master who is absent, too -

In everything that I may say or do

Do those who know He is my Master find

That I am subject to my Master’s mind?

I can be thrilled with Him and can derive

From Him who, though now absent, is alive.

This refers to the poet and novelist sir Walter Scott: the view is here.