Prophets and other dreamers

Dreaming aloud as the perplexing words

of the strange and mysterious God

dance to their unique rhythms;

catapulting into the prophet’s

conscious thoughts and out again.

Words, this time, of hope;

encouraging affirmations of renewal,

with the troubled times retreating

into non-memory.

For the once great city

there is a promise of restoration,

of joy and delight; and of blessings

that will become for all an invitation to life.

Words of domestic contentment;

people dwelling in houses

they have toiled hard to build,

and granted the greatest of all

signs of hope, the birth of a child.

The words continue their unconstrained dance

singing of enjoyment and satisfaction in old age;

and of planting vineyards with the expectation

of enjoying their fruit. “You plant grapes

for your grandchildren,”

a winegrower once told me.

The words dance crazily as they tell

of wolves and lambs feeding side by side,

and of lions and oxen

sharing the same bale of hay.

At his point we know that the dreaming

has taken over from reality,

and that what really counts

is the abiding presence of the God

who answers even before she is called.

© 2010 Ken Rookes