Stand, be courageous.

Haiku of warning and encouragement

Signs all around us
in the sun, moon and the stars.
and here upon earth

The planet will shake
seeking freedom from bondage
to power and fear.

They will call lies truth
and truth lies; brazen, barefaced.
Fear will rule the day.

The Son of Man comes.
When you see these things happen
stand, be courageous.

Leaves on the fig tree
tell us that summer is near;
so, too, the kingdom.

Live well, be ready.
Free your hearts from earthly cares.
Do not be caught out.

Troubles are coming
on you and ev’ryone else;
pray you have the strength.

 

© Ken Rookes 2018

Advertisements

Give us this bread always

They ask for signs,
but fail to embrace
the sign that was given.
They were in happy agreement
when it was all about eating
and feeding upon crusty loaves.
On those days belief came easy
and their hearts had surged,
hoping, expectant.
But seeking, receiving and dining
on the food that endures for eternal life,
(whatever that means),
is another thing entirely.

Give us this bread always.
The request comes easily,
with eager, outstretched hands,
but few opt to stay around
to receive the answer.
And the sign,
despite its stark simplicity,
perhaps because of it,
is passed by, unnoticed and ignored.
Mostly.

 

© Ken Rookes 2015

The sun will be darkened

In ancient writings
the sun, moon and stars
combine to herald the coming
of the new age.
The laws of physics are cast aside
as the sun draws its blinds,
the moon withholds its light from the earth,
and the stars are swept into glowing heaps,
having fallen from the sky.

Outrageous metaphors,
emblazoned in the heavens
to signal cosmic events
and to fanfare the advent of the Son of Man;
whatever that means.
Something to do with Jesus,
and what he came to do,
and be. Something to do with
defiant love, reckless compassion,
and a quixotic commitment to justice, peace
and hope.

It could happen.

 

© Ken Rookes 2014

Painting 1977

The man in the Peter Booth landscape
stares out with red eyes
while the city burns behind him.
Fearful and anxious blacks and greys
give birth bloodily to the distress and pain
of orange flame and scarlet moon.
(Or is it the sun?)
The standing white dog observes without judgement;
nothing that these mortals do can surprise him.
Booth’s apocalyptic vision
could have been referencing this Lucan passage,
speaking as it does, of celestial signs
in the firmament above,
and distress upon earth.
The literalists get excited,
talk fervently of the day that is coming,
of end-times, judgement
and of the hope of heaven’s compensation
for earthly hardship and indignity.
Vindication for the righteous.
They look to the skies, eager to be the first
to see their Master surfing the clouds,
hoping for a mid-flight rendezvous.
Look, Jesus, here we are;
we’ve kept ourselves nice!
It is not in the skies
that the work of faith is to be done,
but here, among earth’s dust,
where the faithful wait
with yearning and with tears,
and with defiant love; costly, unresting.
They press on, determinedly declaring
in the midst of indifference, uncertainty and distress:
The kingdom of God has come near!

© Ken Rookes 2012

Link to Peter Booth’s Painting 1977