Poetry

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It must have blazed with cruel intent.
It’s unquenchable tongues of flame
Consuming all they touched.
I gazed in sadness at the skeleton
Of this House of Worship
As it stood unsteadily against the gray sky.

Not long ago this building glowed with eternal joy
As worship rang from its simple pews
And music and song filled its rafters
Now there was only the silence of loss
Its rafters charred...Its songbooks in ashes.

Then, looking down I gazed upon a miracle.
For lying at my feet was God’s answer
To man’s senselessness.
My sackcloth of bitterness was traded
For a dancing joy in my heart.
An act of destruction became a new beginning
And a terrible loss a sweet victory.

For lying there against the brown and matted grass
Was one burnt page from a hymnal
With the three word title fully intact:

SHINE JESUS, SHINE

All at once I knew the truth of it:
The flames had been extinquished but not His light
The building was gone but the House remained
The books were ash but the strains of worship
Could yet be heard

And in that Holy moment I sang.

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