Poem for Advent 2

This is a poem written by an elder at the church of which I am a member for our service on the Second Week of Advent. He read this during our AM service, and, due to his not feeling that well, I was asked to read it for our PM service. I was taken aback at the breadth of themes presented and the way in which they were all tied together to make a beautiful & coherent whole. After the service, several people came up to me to let me know how much they loved the poem and asked me if I had written it myself. I told them that I had not written it, but that an elder, Paul Randall, had. Such a response to his poem compelled me to inquire of Paul as to whether or not I could include this poem as a part of my series of Advent posts. He granted me permission and you get to reap the benefits of his craftsmanship. Please enjoy, reflect, and comment as you see fit. Again, I give thanks to Paul for his permission.


Poem for Advent 2
2005

Mountain peaks tremble, quake and give way
in a day, or a thousand years
into open-mouthed valleys
swallowing sin and shame.

Grass, so zealously green in the spring,
browns with age, withers, cracks,
tumbles before the breath of God
gathers along fence lines,
lodges with leaves on the sidewalk.

Over newly leveled plains
Righteousness and Peace
outstretch lips to kiss.
A seed falls, roots, sprouts
Faithfulness flowers and bears fruit.
The harvest is the glory of our God.

Winter wheat to be milled, baked, broken.
Succulent grapes ripen on the vine
bursting under bare feet of one unworthy, unkempt
fresh from the wilderness
preparing the wine, preparing the way.

A measure of flour
lumpy, uneven
is shaken, tapped, leveled
heights made low
holes filled in
sifted, for the second time
(the first for the chaff)
the recipe, the way, is prepared.



Copyright © 2005 by Paul Fredrick Randall