by Maisey Jefferson
Like a Psalmist, I will wait My eyes red and burning from the tears, But also burning from Beholding the brightness of your glory, Which is even more brilliant and blinding When I am crying. Like Lady Wisdom, I will wait Still In the midst of your perfection. Your words Are the modest garments that cover me As I flee From the foolish and the wicked To prosperity for Eternity. Like Ruth, I will wait On your threshing floor Living off of your kindness Until you knock at the door Of my heart And redeem me, my Kinsman. Like Esther, I will wait Uninvited in the minds of man But armed with the already-accepting scepter Of your Truth. I will bow to no one And my people will rejoice. Like the Wise Teacher, I will wait Afraid of nothing and achieving nothing Apart from you. Because I am from a world under the sun And I chase the wind when I deny the One Who fulfills me. There will be a time for joy. Like Job, I will wait Because you hold the world And I cannot even begin to imagine How. Like Joshua, I will wait Because forever, Me and mine, We will serve you Even when we cannot swallow the Sour grapes that seem too big to bite. Like an Israelite, I will wait In advent Counting down the seven times seventy days Until I can return to you, Knowing I am the only reason I cry, And Yeshua: Help me do goodness In your eyes.
by Maisey Jefferson
I don’t think I think Enough About you, Lord. Jesus, I don’t think About your thoughts: The ones you had When you were growing up When you wanted to yell at your brothers And didn’t. I don’t think About what you felt When you were under the water And raised back up to the dove-like surface Just like I was. Why don’t I think About how you fought The silver tongue Of twisted truth On the hollowness of a forty-day empty stomach Or the dryness of your eyes As you looked into The face of Perversion And said: “Away!” Why don’t I think About you laughing At a joke that could have easily been mine, Or about the family stories You loved to tell Around the dinner table? And I don’t think about the smile You gave every person you passed On the afternoons when a walk sounded nice. Yet in your perfection, You think of me And you love to.
Post Tenebras Lux
by Katherine Jesson
Boughs clothed in White Christening Robes, still and heavy, bowing to greet you. Boughs quieting the sounds of bustling Town, wearing their pure robes anew. Hidden are Ground’s dead rags from view By snow, soft and gentle, light and clean, Gently laid burial cloth on a frozen tomb. Ground’s lonely barrenness not seen. Out of the heavy Dark above, light flakes now fall Carried by the howling Wind. Though fearful Her cries and shrieks, hope sounds from Snowflakes’ call. The once Dark sky, of light and life, is full. Snow lays upon the frozen tomb, sleeping, resting What mysteries does this frozen world hold? Beneath the white cloth, breathing, waiting New life awakens, new stories yet told.
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