Monday, July 16, 2012
I usually like to post an essay every Monday on some sort of historical or writing-related topic, but things have been so crazy last week, that I haven't had the chance to write one. So, instead, I'll leave you with a poem that I submitted earlier this year for our church's Trinity Arts Festival.
Hymn to God the Son
(inspired by John Donne's poem
"Hymn to God the Father")
I have a sin of fear that when the bolt
Of all mine own believing is unrolled
And Thou tak'st out Thy tape and shears of gold,
Thy measurements shall find my fabric short.
The pattern calls for thrice this length of cloth
To make the robes of righteousness aright,
And I, through lack of faith or else through sloth,
Must robeless stand, stark-naked in Thy sight.
"Ah, foolish child," said One in blood-white dress,
"To think thy cross-proved friend will not provide.
Was not thy very faith by Me supplied?
And will I now withhold My righteousness?"
Before my untamed tongue could proud protest--
"I will not wear the thread another spun!"--
Thou measured out Thy robe and I was dressed
In garments glorious as the golden sun.
O Jesu Christ, enfold me in Thy grace,
And clothe me with Thy royal clemency,
And like a silken sash around the waist
So cause me, Jesu Christ, to cling to Thee.