To the Ends of the Earth and beyond

A few weeks ago, I wrote the following poem:


To the Ends of the Earth

Where is a promise when you need one?
Where runs assurance when you desire
Strength and mercy of heart?
It arises like dawn upon the ends of the earth.

When the world flooded,
Did the ocean waves feel redeemed?
Or did they always know the tide's rise and fall
Would one day break beyond the shore's barrier?

When rainbows color the sky,
Isn't the rain given a chance
To celebrate beauty
As well as to bring life to the dust below?

Aren't cloudy days the most joyful of all,
When a promise of refreshment seems imminent?
Do raindrops believe in the ocean they came from,
Or do they just enjoy faithfully sliding on their downward paths?

Is it wrong at all to raise your hands and face upward
In both rainfall and sunshine?
The light on the horizon - it is coming.
The bursting morning is arriving soon, surely you will run with me there.

*******
...And so I figured it was a decent poem, but didn't really put much stock in it. After I finished, I opened my bible and flipped to what I thought was going to be a random passage. And I would have thought so, had it not addressed the questions I had just asked, continuing the thought. The passage is Isaiah 41. Here are the first few verses:

"Coastlands, listen to Me in silence,
And let the peoples gain new strength;
Let them come forward, then let them speak;
Let us come together for judgment.
Who has aroused one from the east
Whom He calls in righteousness to His feet?
He delivers up nations before him
And subdues kings.
He makes them like dust with his sword,
As wind-driven chaff with his bow.
He pursues them, passing on in safety,
By a way he had not been traversing with his feet.
Who has performed and accomplished it,
Calling forth the generations from the beginning?
'I, Yahweh, am the first, and with the last. I am He.'"

Apology of Sunshine

A getaway into green grass,
A lime dance into fresher seas,
A light unto the simplest warmth.
The weeds wane away when the appreciation
Appears in the perfect planting
Of two pairs of feet under the brightest lantern.

Flooding waves of social ineptitude,
Forgive us, it's only social unnessecity,
With feet planted on the green grass
Of a savory day in the darkest of nighttime winters.
Oh winter, the brightest season of the year,
If only we could know patience like this.

The flooding sea comes where we stand,
Dear sister. For such an adoptive force,
The luminous waves make for substantial reasons
To stay here solidly, approachably,
Elemental, defending this simply deep structure,
Turning now to the examination of a heavier metal.