Poetry

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Jeremiah and Ezekiel

The prophet strides through the ash,
his robes are wet with dew,
the thunder roars with a lightning flash
yet those desolate ruins through
walks that heavy-hearted man,
with face drawn, expression forlorn
he recalls how it all began.

That once merry-hearted youth,
now with the world’s wisdom weary,
in his endless quest to proclaim the truth,
his robes torn, his eyes with tears bleary
through the pelting rain he walks
amidst the dead, amidst the rubble
he runs as one whom darkness stalks
in his quest to evade that ancient trouble.

‘The strife, the strife, ‘twill claim your life!’
the well-meaning man had cried,
but the people of this stubborn land
his wearied warnings still defied
and so the city fell to foreign hand,
amidst the screams, Jerusalem had died.

The widows wept, the children mourned,
the men were slain in the pouring rain
their bodies now the streets adorned,
when dragged away in a teary train
the survivors from Jerusalem were gone,
taken to that heathen land, to captivity,
to exile, by the king of Babylon!

Amongst exiles, by River Chebar,
with his homeland torn by strife,
now living in foreign lands afar,
sits Buzi’s son, weeping for his wife.
He sees the Lord, enthroned in Glory,
with four Living Things beneath,
and through his tears, tells his story,
with heavy heart and gritted teeth.

But says the Lord, ‘All will yet be well,
though now you see only sorrow,
mourn not, O faithful Ezekiel,
today is judgment, but, ah, tomorrow!
Grace shall flow from on High,
Messiah shall My Kingdom bring,
O Son of Man, the day is nigh,
when shall reign My Shepherd-King.

O Son of Man, I see you weeping,
but fear not, I am still with you,
the day will come, when you’ll be leaping
into My arms filled through and through
with joy I’ll give for all eternity.

O My child, look only to Me,
worry not over what men say,
O My child, then you will truly see,
the greatness of My Holy Way.
O come follow Me, I’ll never leave,
though now the tempest rages
and still you grieve,
fear not, I am the Rock of all the Ages,
stand on Me alone and just believe.

Stay with me, for I will never go,
O My son, you I carefully crafted,
though you may weep, simply know,
My child, My heart for you is only good,
My peace I give, if you’ll just receive,
though fathom My love, no man could,
but My child, I never deceive,
O come My son, take and embrace,
what I now offer to you:
My boundless grace,
O My child, I give you My peace.’

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