A voice cries, Comfort!

Haiku for a coming.

Comfort my people.

Yes, we could use some comfort.

We feel lost, afraid.

Tell Jerusalem,

in words of tenderness, her

punishment is past.

A voice is crying:

In the wilderness prepare

the way; the Lord comes.

Mountains are levelled,

uneven ground is made smooth,

as are the rough roads.

The Lord is coming,

the day of glory draws near;

we all will see it.

A voice says Cry out!

People are withering grass

and fading flowers.

When God breathes on them

the grass withers, flowers fade;

only God’s word lasts.

Shout out loud, boldly,

Jerusalem. Do not fear.

Say, Here is your God!

The tidings are good.

Tell Judah, God comes in love;

he is our reward.

He will feed his flock

like a shepherd, gathering

the lambs in his arms.

© Ken Rookes 2023

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 the 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 this 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

The attempted domestication of God

"I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel  from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle."

2 Samuel 7:6

When you are a king,

well practised in raising taxes,

commanding armies

and building palaces,

life can be a bit too good.

Striving to justify his enjoyment

of the comfortable life,

(while the poor still go hungry

and the widows and the orphans

make the best of their lot),

David decides to co-opt the Lord

to ease his guilt

by building God a temple;

with fine gold vessels, plush cushions,

carved cedar beams,

and ornate fittings.

An impressive house for God

would make the king's grand domicile

less offensive to the dignity

of God's people.

God, however,

politely declines the offer,

preferring to dwell in a tent.

Rev Ken Rookes