221

 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.”

Byzantine Painting of the Last Supper

THE SIGN

                                           Fiercely focused, aimed from eternity,

He set his face like flint toward the Cross.

Nothing could turn Him back: the Tempter’s gloss,

The wrath of Herod, raging of the sea,

Well-meant advice from friends who could not see.

It wasn’t that He failed to count the cost;

No one knew better how to weigh the loss,

But He maintained His gaze on you and me.

 

A wicked generation seeks a sign;

It’s different when you’re given one instead.

All the meaning centers, every line,

Himself, His sacrifice, and all He said:

Fiercely focused, still we sip the wine;

Aimed for eternity, we eat the bread.

The Word

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.  And look for Williams’ very latest book, Deeper Magic: The Theology behind the Writings of C. S. Lewis, from Square Halo Books!

Donald T. Williams, PhD

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