Beholding the Unseen
Beholding the Unseen
Sometime the melodies of God begin discordantly,
Like symphonies that first must tune to find their harmony.
Pure and sure His overtures still waft to waiting ones,
Calling, choosing, reserving His daughters and His sons.
Hidden to all eyes but His, like seed a farmer sows
First the blade, then the ear, then the full grain grows.
His processes progressing to His goals.
Faith to faith, glory to glory, God veils while He unfolds.
Earthtime is framed in irksome flesh of banal, boring days.
Like Israel, some know His acts; like Moses, some His ways.
What obscure school of silence taught Moses forty years?
Reduced from zeal without knowledge to godly sorrow’s tears
That have no confidence in flesh nor their initiatives
Who know their thoughts and ways are death, but, thank God, not so His.
How was Naomi’s elegy to Bethlehem addressed?
“I went out full, came back empty”, her dirge of bitterness.
Yet far above Judean hills where eagle has not soared
The Great Conductor orchestrates earth songs from heaven’s score.
From ashes He brings beauty; from mourning oil of joy.
A female choir raised heaven’s ode about this Obed boy.
“Redeem…restore…renown…nourish” new songs for newborn’s name.
Garments of praise clothed latter days – her lap, his nurse, the same.
She could not know those years ago when graves gobbled her dreams
That David’s grandfather would come and grow up at her knees.
So lift your voice, you grandmothers, great grandmothers rejoice.
God’s metamorphic music lifts lamentation’s voice
Into the Lord’s high praises training kingdom minstrels
His first love poet warrior sweet psalmists of Israel.
O may we fear, with hearing ear and seeing eye a heart listens!
Your kingdom come; Your will be done, in earth as in heaven.
These stormy souls with ruining rains, these oyster rhapsody refrains
Produce glory beyond compare of temporary strains and pains.
May no wind steer except Christ’s breath. Let nothing rise but from His death
From fratricide appointed sons? Cains kill Abels; God sends Seths.
He compensates for hated sons who give their lives for truth
And Enochs declare our frail, decaying mortal root.
His poor in spirit increase as I AM anthems grow,
From sotto voice preludes to crashing crescendos
From brokenness and weakness His children sing His Name,
The Aria of the Ages, Jesus Christ the same.
Be still or sent. Learn contentment. Glory differs star to star.
As we fulfill – become His will – heaven’s treasures, earthen jars.
The mighty God of Jacob pondered His anxious son.
When facing light affliction Jacob was prone to run.
God’s wounds may cripple worshippers, on pilgrim staffs they lean
And limping on they watch so keen fixing their gaze on the unseen.
And limping on they watch so keen fixing their gaze on the unseen.
-Will Duke