Trans-Pacificism… Or Here Comes His Grace…

March 14, 2015


The speed limit sign says, boldly,
And my mind says, ‘Nahh, that’s
Too fast,

Things shouldn’t move like that-
Not right now, at least,
Let it last awhile
…. slow-

With the universe leaning
Just how it is,
How uncouth, all the hurry.
How unbecoming, is this

Without taste…

And while my mind speaks thusly
My heart
Feels it, too,
But what do these
Prone-to-wandering feet find to do?

The pedal’s on the floor.
It got there slow-ly,
But there it sits,

And this car is moving fast-
It is.
So fast that those
Pistons must be a blur.

What once was rapid succession
Is now what seems
A static

To where

Thunder becomes a whine
I gulp
My life
A hum,
A drone,
A buzz,
And so
-as much as it doesn’t go-
It almost does.

My heart knows
That it will not do,
And yet…
Sort of wants it to.

So now, I stand here
In the pause
Shaking my head
With the cricketsong.
My soul-ache
Seems to have spread,
And I can feel a heavy-heart throbbing
In fatigued legs,
Drumming along

To this beat

I imagine the sun
-Light in my mind-
Down there in heaven,
Amidst flung stars
To find

It’s been waiting-
Waiting for this earth to roll over
In bed,
Or its grave,
Or… to stumble upon the shore
Like the breaking of a
Trans-pacific wave…

Still, morning will come,
(This much I know,
Not because some star says so,

But because our sphere will
Simply… look away no more.)
And with it will come work.
Solomon’s labor-
That divine chore

The toil which busies the hands of men,
Yes, morning will come
And go


It feels so
Like we’re riding a pendulum,
With ears strained
But only ringing,

And naught more than
Half of a
Tick of the
Clock a
And what’s moved?
A day…
And what good has come
With its passing -eh?

I tell myself
I’ve been persuaded
Without words
What’s truth
By heart,

To a man such as myself
A second may be
But a mere trifling thing
And yet, so much more
To my Sovereign Creator-King.

One so great, as to speak
And call up in the beginning
With a word

The very land between the waters,
And fill that sea with mighty wonders.
Such is the God who also
Made the minute,
The second-
The… twinkling
Of her eyes!

And think we that He fills them not as full?
Nay. I would venture to guess that, though oft unseen, He has filled His seconds just as full of His glory as His sky,

In stride,

And His minutes
As the twinkle
In the eye
Of yon Bride.

So scientists
For centuries
Have been grapsing…
At mysteries,
Through microscopes
And up
Through telescopes,
(For the edges of His wonderful charisma,
But they just aren’t there…
To behold)
To be held…

It’s brilliant-
How He made His world
Ring upon ring,
So even in
The bewildering,
Fathomless deeps of His beauty,
True-lovers might have perspective
By which to tell their tales,
With which to frame their pictures,
In which to sing their songs…
Of testimony-
Of thanks.

And in these tales
As in the wind
I’ve watched
Trees delight and dance.

In these pictures
I have felt
Leaves whisper, wild
With fated chance

In these songs
(“Would you do Me the honor…”)
Branches, burdened, bow



Loves our Good God…
And here
His Grace! :)

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