To Best Grasp the Wrath of God
Consider not tsunami tidals nor thunder shout
(waves of deafening water just wash out
pleading voices of the drowned).
Not best found in glinting summit of the spear
as bodies crumple
to the ground. Accusing history book
bleeds instances in countless profusion
(many wore God’s wrath
like a warm cloak over their vengeance).
To understand the wrath of God
(still not sure I should) picture instead a dad
whispering stern, laughing things into his baby’s
ear, a little pink shell
curling around his father’s voice. Could this
warm bundle of genes,
his promised self, be carved
into a sacrifice? What kind of belief
in wrath commands a father’s hands
(rough leather cradling newly given skin)
to grasp a knife?
Bury those bright baby eyes
beneath all of the wrong ever been done.
Feel the wrath of a God
who would do that to His own small son.
Can you contemplate the utter hate
for sin that left a baby
struggling to breath beneath mine
and find you’ve realized
love instead?
Consider not tsunami tidals nor thunder shout
(waves of deafening water just wash out
pleading voices of the drowned).
Not best found in glinting summit of the spear
as bodies crumple
to the ground. Accusing history book
bleeds instances in countless profusion
(many wore God’s wrath
like a warm cloak over their vengeance).
To understand the wrath of God
(still not sure I should) picture instead a dad
whispering stern, laughing things into his baby’s
ear, a little pink shell
curling around his father’s voice. Could this
warm bundle of genes,
his promised self, be carved
into a sacrifice? What kind of belief
in wrath commands a father’s hands
(rough leather cradling newly given skin)
to grasp a knife?
Bury those bright baby eyes
beneath all of the wrong ever been done.
Feel the wrath of a God
who would do that to His own small son.
Can you contemplate the utter hate
for sin that left a baby
struggling to breath beneath mine
and find you’ve realized
love instead?