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|Gerry McCullough award-winning Irish writer & poet|
Poems published in Faith for Life magazine
[ View of Heaven ] [ Love ] [ The Climb ] [ Like Sheep ]
View of Heaven|
The sun’s a glaring tear ripped in the sky,
Revealing, dazzling, bright.
What lies behind the silk-thin clothes?
Beauty for ashes, or burnt eyesore white
The first, I’d say.
I’ve seen this painter’s work before.
I’ll never know, unless I thrust on in.
There are no new words
For you are not new,
You have not changed.
You have spoken from the start,
Filling my heart with joy.
Yet when you come to me
You do a new thing,
And what’s between us has never been before —
A rising sun
New as world’s morning,
Filling my world with light.
And so I hunt the words
That run from me
And try to tear them down,
To bay a truth
Which cannot be contained
Except in you,
And must be free.
Up into the high places,
Our feet treading on rough and treacherous ground,
Slipping and breathing hard, we push ahead,
Sometimes on hands and knees, clinging with pain.
Hard to go on, but harder to go back —
Crying out, struggling, short of breath,
Feet slipping on the loose and moving scree,
We hold on to the bedrock of the cliff.
Our hands and knees are bruised and ripped and bloody.
At last we come
Up to the mountain tops, and see the sun.
He has put our feet in a place that’s safe for leaping.
We’ll reach the further peaks with eagle’s wings.
How many times will I fail?
How often will the abyss in flames
Roar beneath my feet,
A burning jail
Where hate and horror meet?
I set my will
To stumble after You,
And fall and fall again
Until I think it’s true
There is only pain.
Rescue me from myself,
Struggles and strivings leading to despair.
Free me to be at peace,
Lift me into the air,
Give me release.
Am I unchanged?
Time after time I hear Your loving word,
But fail to do Your will.
What’s left, then, but to cry, "Forgive me, Lord!
Forgive me still!"
|This page last modified: Sunday, 03-Jan-2016 22:00:41 GMT|
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