At one with the Father

At one with the Father,
the mystery of light;
he shines into the darkness,
he chases in the night.

At one with creation,
at home amidst the dust;
the redness at the centre,
the fire and the rust.

At one with the people,
the tears and the chain;
the wandering and homeless,
the loneliness and pain.

He does not shun the struggle,
dark thoughts or the questions;
embracing of the challenge
and seeking its connections.

Comrade to the travellers
on wilderness journey;
searching for that pilgrim goal
through windings and through turnings.

Confronter of the wealthy
disturbing those who rule;
discomfort for the righteous,
the wise sent back to school.

Friend of peace-creators,
holding frightened hands,
at one with those who protest,
and those who make a stand.

At one with the rhythm,
the feel and the pulse;
seeing truth and all things good,
and weeping o’er the false.

Dust and spirit joining,
in love they are united,
reaching out to gather in;
the love, it is requited.

At home among the humble,
they know him by his voice,
he speaks of hope, of truth and life
for all who make the choice.

© Ken Rookes 2013


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