Emissaries of the Infinite,
Ambassadors of the Absolute,
know something of the divine "madness."
Thy are hopeless and hopeful contrarians, curmudgeons.
Against the world, for the world,
under God, under the sun, in the Son,
Cross stuck to all they do.
Resurrection ahead.
Hope is not dead,
but only in anguish.
Ambassadors of the Absolute,
know something of the divine "madness."
Thy are hopeless and hopeful contrarians, curmudgeons.
Against the world, for the world,
under God, under the sun, in the Son,
Cross stuck to all they do.
Resurrection ahead.
Hope is not dead,
but only in anguish.
1 comment:
This is a beautiful poem. Thank you for posting it. We are emissaries and ambassadors. We are misunderstood, mocked, and manipulated. We are at once hated and loved by the world. Lies pull me under the tumult, and they rob me of my best life. We are more than curmudgeons and contrarians; we are ruthless warriors who fight for our freedom as well as the freedom of others even as they are punching and shouting at us. The fight is very serious and very real, yet it is supernatural and something that only G-d can see clearly. I don't want to walk in endless circles; I want to have the courage and the faithfullness that is needed to enter the Promised Land. The only thing that I want is to have a faith that is so strong that the angels can use it as a slide from Heaven to earth.
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