Waiting in the Dark

I wrote this poem from the darkness of anguish and loss. I am thankful for the faithful men and women who have walked in the shadow of death, particularly for Charles Spurgeon. It was the account of his struggles in the small book Spurgeon's Sorrows by Zack Eswine that blew on the embers of my faintly burning heart.

(Based on Elijah's life, 1 Kings 17 - 2 Kings 2)

The Dispatch

Elijah, when you asked the LORD to take your life

The chariot dispatched before the foundation of the world was

Driving, driving, driving

Sparking wheels with burning glory

Pounding out the ancient dust of stars

Flaming hooves beating furlongs of space

From that far, far country

Chasing down the appointed time

The fore-running angel bid you eat

And let your fiery prophet’s tongue

Lick up water from

The base of an other-worldly altar

In answer to your grief’s desire

Wait

The Breath of God, who speaks all things into being

Blew your smoldering wick into Presence

And the haze on the horizon

Into the blazing tempest of your deliverance

When the mantle veiling your face from the gentle breeze

Would fall like a whisper

Lighting on the shoulders of our hope