Poetry

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THE IMAGE OF THE FATHER



Though I’d never seen my Father
I longed to know His face
To look upon His countenance
To feel His firm embrace

I gazed into a naked mirror
Looked deep into my eyes
Seeking for a glimpse of Him
My heart missed otherwise

But the mirror’s sole reflection
Was the clay from which I’m made
And it didn’t know my Father
Nor the likeness I so craved

No, I’d never seen my Father
Still, I’d heard Him speak my name
So I continued seeking
For a likeness I could claim

Then came to me a whisper
A truth older than this clay
I heard a Voice speak gently
“I’m the Life, the Truth, the Way”

Oh, it wasn’t in my countenance
I’d see my Father’s face
But molded in the Word Himself
His goodness, love and grace

In longing for my Father
For the likeness I so sought
I need have looked no further
Than the gift that Love’s grace bought

The likeness I was seeking
Lies within the Father’s Son
The life that He laid down for me
And the race He’s so well run

Still, I yearn to bear His image
In this clay who knew His breath
Where Eden’s seed lies buried
A seed that led to death

But the clay of my own making
Disguised the Father’s face
‘Til stone by stone it laid a road
Straight to a bloodied place

Where the image of the Father
Imprinted in His Son
Walked a path of likeness
I never could have done

It led first to a garden
He dwelt in every day
And it was in Gethsemane
He showed me first the way

The way to take into this clay
An image so Divine
As ‘Not my will, but Thine be done’
Flowed from His lips to mine

Together then we walked the road
That first His steps did trod
A road up to Golgotha’s cross
Where I see the face of God

A place where bled the Father’s Son
Upon a wooden frame
Now becomes by Grace’s love
A place that bears my name

A cross where written in Life’s blood
A Father’s love for me
Now clearly bears the image
Of the face I longed to see

Not in a mirror’s reflection
But of soul’s now intertwined
I find the image my heart longed
To find as part of mine

For now I see my Father
I’ve looked into His face
Wrapped within the Son’s own love
I feel His sweet embrace





© 23 August 2006
DeAnna Brooks

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