Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.” I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”
Enough blank verse! Now for something completely different—like Christmas in April. Hey, it’s the next poem in the series. Maybe we’ll repeat this post in December.
Oh Sight beyond all Seeing
Oh Sight beyond all seeing,
Light in the dark of the sun,
Fact behind the face of Being,
Second of Three in the One:
What motive could have moved you hither thus?
The Life that was ever begotten, never begun,
Began to be born, to mourn. For us
The daring deed was done.
Burned by angel-light,
The shepherds’ eyes were blind
To everything except the sight
That they went forth to find.
It was a Baby wrapped in swaddling clothes,
Laid in a manger: such had been the sign.
The sign they saw by then still shows
The perilous paths that wind
Between the Tree and the Tree
This much the sign makes clear:
The Light invisible we see,
The silent Word we hear.
What motive could have moved Him hither thus?
We hear pegs pounded, see the thrusted spear,
We hear, “Forgive them!” Now for us
The day of doom draws near.
Remember: for more poetry like this, go to https://lanternhollow.wordpress.com/store/ and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.
Donald T. Williams, PhD