Long car rides inspire poetry. This little piece is free verse, far from perfect, but open to suggestions. Those of you who have read lots of Lewis may notice a phrase borrowed from him....or some may recognize the line from George MacDonald's "The Shortest and Sweetest of All Songs." This poem is based off of MacDonald's poem, Lewis' "Problem of Pain" and "The Efficacy of Prayer," and Dr. Mitchell's Faith and Reason lecture this fall. Seriously, this is a draft--and I'd welcome comments. =)
Earthen creatures here
Bowed, lowly, crippled
Their own wanderings
waste away their years.
The cup of self's water
Too quickly leaves thirsty
The tattered soul no respite finds.
Ov'r browned and mangled pasture
they seek a dewlling.
Cross the nascently chartered seas
to drown their haunting specters
of past and present unbespoken sins.
What paradox--what mystery--here lies?
That we should dwell in
limitless, bounden skies.
Personhood fashioned in time and place
The settled particulars to embrace.
And yet, our souls see rest,
a thing grasped for, not attained.
Strange pilgrims they, no city find
And groan the day their sorrows leave behind.
A numinal union their
embryonic beings seek.
And to these broken ruins
Speaks a still eternal call
His everything tis borne
in costly time so short.
With whispers to the
tear-strained heart:
'come home. come home.'
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