Until

Until

"How long, O Lord?"

cry time-garbed prophets

of dusty days

waiting waiting waiting -

for judgement of judges, 

for heart-graven laws -

waiting working waiting.

"How long, O Lord?"

weeping over Jerusalem.

For forty coins, O innocent Lamb

lifted up to be looked upon

by tearless blind and 

sorrow-blinded seeing.

Forgive us, Judge of all.

"How long, O Lord?"

cries the waiting church,

wallowing spotless bride 

hearing the mockers speak

their oft-merited scorn,

holding firstfruits of one Adam

still eating that fruit of another.

"How long, O Lord?"

as false expectations hang,

a fragile shining cloud

above us who feel not their weight

until shattered they descend

piercing trust and pride and most of all

the hearts of those who hope.

"How long, O Lord?"

will the gift of discernment,

of vision,

be not a thwarted burden

but a treasure of seeing

free from maligned motives,

truly serving.

"How long, O Lord?"

as we bow in thankfulness and awe 

to our rescuer and consuming fire.

We fear to ask for justice we 

fear not to

knowing that beauty will not save the world

but only You, Beautiful Christ.

"How long, O Lord?"

We've hung our harps

on poplar trees 

we groan in certain hope

of resurrection, restoration, re-creation.

waiting working waiting

O Lord, keep us in hope.

for reference: Heb12:28-29, 1 Cor 15, and Psalm 137