Poetry

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Thunderous look, his wild eyes all ablaze
So like boiling green seas
On black stormy days,
Wild raging bull rearing out of control—
What fearsome unease
Is steering his soul?

Locals avoid him, they fear the unknown,
They’re afraid—he’s so strange
They stay in their homes;
Dwelling in tombs, he’s cold, naked, unfed;
To the living--deranged—
No threat to the dead.

Sees One approaching, he races to meet,
Bows his head to adore
At Christ Jesus’ feet;
Deep from within him an agonised shout,
Demon forces implore
They not be cast out.

Cast into swine by God’s powerful Word,
Rushing headlong to drown,
Two thousand strong herd;
Neighbourhood pleads He departs from their land—
Prefer devils they’ve known
To God here as Man?

Legion delivered is sitting and dressed,
In mind fully restored
Who long was possessed,
Chosen by Christ as a witness to men—
Now the stranger abhorred
Speaks new life to them.

Often the Saviour commissions the weak,
Through the world’s most despised
He chooses to speak,
Showing no favour to haughty and great—
Could be angels disguised
Who beg at our gate!

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