​ Trinity

 

Maker of the universe:

ordering the chaos,

painting rainbows,

sculpting outcrops,

planting forests,

spinning the atoms.

 

Prophet of the kingdom:

embracing outcasts,

telling stories,

washing feet,

bearing sins,

sharing our load.

 

Guide upon our journey:

renewing the world,

calling the faithful,

bestowing gifts,

expanding minds,

joining hearts.

 

Mystery,

Trinity,

God who is here.

 

 

An older poem on the Trinity, for those who found my new poem a little heavy going

© Ken Rookes

Triune God

The 3D God is at home within the cosmos,

a habitation created in a dream-thought explosion

of energy, light and grace. In that moment,

time began its insistent journey

outwards to locate and define

every particle that ever existed.

This same triune Deity calls into being love,

which reaches, gathers and embraces,

– always did, always does, always will,

– and weeps at the estrangement

and the bondage of creation

 

Knowing that fear must be defied

if life is to triumph, a Word-child

is sent to embody foolish,

love-filled hope;

seeking an end to the alienation

and recklessly shining his uninvited light

into previously shadowed places.

The embracings receive added substance

as hand are clasped, feet are washed,

cheeks are kissed, tears are shed,

and greetings of peace are extended to all.

 

The third dimension comes as Spirit,

transcending temporal and spatial limits,

to speak once more, and for all time,

that same word of impossible love.

Groaning deeply to resonate

with the barely audible vibrations upon which

the universe is built, she creates once more,

and again, challenge, peace, truth and justice;

calling forth life out of darkness

to refashion the cosmos.

in grace and hope.

 

I find it a challenge to engage with the Trinity in poetry. I keep wanting to change it, but this will have to do for now.

© Ken Rookes 2012

Wisdom’s Feast: Rivers of Life Art Exhibition

We expect there will be about 25 works in this exhibition. It starts this weekend, at Wisdom’s Feast at St Andrew’s Bendigo, and will continue at Forest Street for the following three weekends. The pamphlet has details.

Spirit of Truth

A new day dawns,

from time to time,

when sentient beings,

such as myself,

and you, curious reader,

experience moments

of such wondrous lucidity

that it seems we have moved

from a place of darkness

to one of light. The dawning

is mostly welcomed. For some,

those days arise more frequently

than they do for others;

the enlightenments may be serial,

and the truths will often compound.

John, the gospel-writer,

tells of the Advocate Spirit,

friend and companion

to men and women of faith,

who is promised to create

occasional recognitions of truth

filled with colour, light and beauty;

choreographing dancings for weary feet,

composing arias in ache-filled hearts

and leading the pilgrim soul

to places of grateful weeping.

Such illuminations may,

on occasions, so inspire the open-minded

that nations are led to cease their fighting,

nature begins to find healing,

people stop being quite so fearful,

and the hitherto vanquished power

of generous love receives its chance

and reclaims a small foothold.

© Ken Rookes 2012

Not belonging

 

The one we follow

steps away from the constraints

of earthly contentment and desire

to listen more closely to the words of grace,

love and delight that whisper insistently

in the calling that shapes him.

With freed arms he offers

his liberating embrace

to the ones he calls friends.

They are to walk his own awkward,

earth-traced trails, and many more;

experiencing the challenge of the landscape,

feeling the sadness of its breaking,

and uncovering hopeful nuggets

and other surprising life-gems

hidden beneath layers of dust.

Born of that same dust,

they see beyond their parentage,

knowing that they are neither

children nor slaves,

but sisters and brothers of one,

who, for something more beautiful,

refused his world’s comfortable

and seductive encumbrances.

Belonging most completely,

yet not tethered by that belonging,

they refuse the gravity pull

of everything that would rob them

of the true freedom and joy

that is their inheritance.

Climbing love’s thermal currents,

recklessly they soar, rising and diving;

passionate,

with determined wings.

 

Some poems are works in progress. I post them anyway in the hope that others might find them helpful. I think this is OK, but I may revisit.

© Ken Rookes 2012

 

Only one thing

 

Too much smug,

ticket-to-heaven thinking,

(I nearly called it theology),

in the fundamentalist roots

that many of us share. But,

says gospel-writer John

and those who appropriated his name

in later letters, there is only one thing

by which we are made friends

of Jesus.

If the proof is in the eating,

then the fruits are surely

in the doing, the listening,

and the obeying of the commandment.

The agápē word was spoken often

and enacted on more than one occasion

by the man who embodies

self-giving, generosity and compassion.

This utterance at the centre

of his living,

and translated into our language,

has become so tired

that I am reluctant to employ it.

Made a cliché,

the word spills effortlessly

from undiscerning lips,

and only occasionally finds expression

through committed hands

and outraged hearts.

But, it seems to me,

this one thing alone causes God,

(however she is conceived),

to smile;

only one thing.

 

 

© Ken Rookes 2012