Poetry

MEDITATION

by Walter Boswell
02/23/19
Free to Share
Author requests article critique

  Message Writer
  Hire Writer

Tweet

Meditation (prophecy return)

                Wheeling in a quiet state

where, still, hearts make a steady flow:

                                a chest heaving with verity

                bids, come now, let us reason together.

Creation is the movement of God … thus made known,

       backtracked now to ‘change is the movement of God’;

                whilst humanity sits by in bandying mode:

                                                who made me different?

                                Why am  I not more like my Father?

Why call him father, he who has no son

                                (were he not as one yet brotherless)?

This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.

                                Useless servant!

                                Bondless slave!

You make Your kindness too great for me!

                              Though nailed to a cross,

                He still moved to touch His farthest creation;

                       “The universe is bound up in Me!”

Everywhere a God

Ashamed is the cause of our sins, and our savior for them;

in that Evil has everywhere a god, a protector from harm,

                each in his own selfish divinity

                a host to the cruelty of Nature;

      whereas goodness dies longingly on the vine (of Jesus).

Therefore, I do curse God readily now –

                not every bad event, but every frustration

                                                in vain to the hurt.

Someday may the Lord be reminded to take a moment to care;

somewhere heavenly angels must relay answers, not angst to prayer.

Winter rain would not save my dying crop caught

                in burned surrender to summer drought;

neither can the Lord be kind after seasons sought

                once His heat has baked hearts throughout.

AM Exodus

Better to say there is no God (worth having).

Better to say I have done this to myself:

                the practice of faith was long for naught,

                for denying self and scurrilous evil ways.

Better to say Moses came back from the desert,

                declaring, “The Egyptians were right!

                There is no greater god than Pharaoh.”

The only Lord above is the one who induces

                                a survival of the fittest –

                a fitting for the strong to place.

The Lord hates losers …

                so tired of the Israelites, confined to their mudpits,

                gathering and cutting the straws of grain,

                forming bricks and watching them dry,

                evening sitting around the fleshpots,

                                and sucking on melons.

Get yourselves up; get ye up out of Egypt,

and make yourselves a sacrifice to the noble.

There is a whole desert out there waiting

                for your charge, and your flesh a firing.

Dr. Walter Boswell

[email protected]