Water that lives

Haiku of the Spirit

Those who are thirsty
who seek the living water,
let them come to me.

The promised Spirit
shall flow from their hearts in streams
of living water.

 

© Ken Rookes 2017

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Streams in the desert

 The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom…  Isaiah 35:1

Raise your voices, faithful people
as you tread with determination
the kingdom road.
The journey is long and uncertain,
some say foolish,
but it is the way of promise;
with glorious Zion
the destination, and its Lord as our home.
Journey with those whose ears
have been unstopped,
that they might hear the songs of the faithful.
Walk with those whose eyes
have been opened to see
the surprising defiance of desert blooms.
Travel in company with leg-leaping
comrades, no longer accepting
the sad label that declares them lame.
You shall not lose your way.
Formerly this was a land of despair,
despondently arid and dust dry desert.
Now, with newly opened eyes of faith
we see the joyful springs;
water flowing among green reeds and rushes;
sparkling with life and filled with hope.
 
© Ken Rookes

Another poem for the third Sunday in Advvent can be founf here.

Prophets and other dreamers

Dreaming aloud as the perplexing words
of the strange and mysterious God
dance to their unique rhythms;
catapulting into the prophet’s
conscious thoughts and out again.
Words, this time, of hope;
encouraging affirmations of renewal,
with the troubled times retreating
into non-memory.
For the once great city
there is a promise of restoration,
of joy and delight; and of blessings
that will become for all an invitation to life.
Words of domestic contentment;
people dwelling in the houses
they have toiled hard to build,
and granted the greatest of all
signs of hope, the birth of a child.
The words continue their unconstrained dance
singing of enjoyment and satisfaction in old age;
and of planting vineyards with the expectation
of enjoying their fruit. “You plant grapes
for your grandchildren,”
a winegrower once told me.
The words dance crazily as they tell
of wolves and lambs feeding side by side,
and of lions and oxen
sharing the same bale of hay.
At this point we know that the dreaming
has taken over from reality,
and that what really counts
is the abiding presence of the God
who answers even before she is called.
 
© 2010 Ken Rookes

Another poem for this coming Sunday can be found here