MILD HE LAYS HIS GLORY BY
(by Michelle Hindman)
Was it =
shaken off simply,
like dew
from a lamb’s fleece?
Or laid =
by, folded neatly
like linens
on a stone?
How did God separate
Himself from stars
to =
slum in sinew,
leave Power simply
lying in its place?
Did He =
thunder and tear into Time,
or was it soundless as a falling =
star?
If the Glory shed from You like dust
when You =
slipped beneath
the surface
into womb and world,
Then what was =
left
but us?
Surely, how =
you set aside
your birthlessness
to be a son
is a mystery too =
great.
But this we know –
You wrapped yourself in =
our world,
walked into crowded inns and closed hearts,
stepped =
into cells and stink and surrender.
Your Glory =
not cast off
but underground,
Gone to seed –
Buried deep =
in veins
like roots,
and through touch
tendrilling hearts to =
heaven.
All that Eternity still spread
through your =
bread-needing body,
reaching,
for the stuff of sin =
itself,
fingers curling
once more
into dust.
Roots working =
beneath the curse,
breaking concrete from below –
raising =
sons
of earth.
~~
Dr Bob Griffin
[email protected] www.grif.net
"Jesus Knows Me, This I =
Love!"