At one with the Father

At one with the Father,
the mystery of light;

he shines into the darkness,

he chases in the night.
 

At one with creation,

at home amidst the dust;

the redness at the centre,

the fire and the rust.

At one with the people,

the tears and the chain;
the wandering and homeless,
the loneliness and pain.

He does not shun the struggle,

dark thoughts or the questions;

embracing of the challenge
and seeking its connections.
 
Comrade to the travellers
on wilderness journey;
searching for that pilgrim goal
through windings and through turnings.
 
Confronter of the wealthy
disturbing those who rule;
discomfort for the righteous,
the wise sent back to school.
 
Friend of peace-creators,
holding frightened hands,
at one with those who protest,
and those who make a stand.
 
At one with the rhythm,
the feel and the pulse;
seeing truth and all things good,
and weeping o’er the false.
 
Dust and spirit joining,
in love they are united,  
reaching out to gather in;
the love, it is requited.
 
At home among the humble,
they know him by his voice,
he speaks of hope, of truth and life
for all who make the choice.
 
© Ken Rookes 2013