This is a sample page from my Houndstooth Heretic book of peoms. I am a bit conflicted with this image. I love it, but Christ seem so sorrowful. It is not that I think that he was "happy" going to the cross, but I believe he was joyous. He love us, and his sacrifice was the ultimate portrait of that love.
A Sorrow Great
Some say a sorrow great
lives so deep the soul doth swell,
Disposing the voice of reason
where only silence fell
Deep and desperate inside life’s
tempest, storm and squalls
it abides there
behind Hades heady walls
No– is only phantasm
where evils domain shall dwell
For it is a saints life on earth
that paves the road to hell
With great depth of commitment
we commend our sorrows to our own, but feeble grip
Ever slipping downward as
though Christ’s atonement was but a merry myth
Here we are at Dante’s final gate
alas it is first here, we for our salvation wait
Depression’s insignia,
has framed its sorrow here
So feeble, an emblem
for such forbidden fear
Let it be then wisdom,
soul on the verge
dim twilight
The dawn shall come bearing down
in truth’s almighty light
Ever bearing cross in heart
the saints sorrows, now set hope in sight
Lord, Christ– Savior
strengthen me for the fight
Now wait I, as from heaven, my lover to defend me,
atone, acquit, redeem me against this demonic blast
Is it better to remain here,
clinging to the remnant, tormented and harassed
Gently he caresses me, saying
grasp not for your sanity let go and take my hand
For only I can lead you,
in this dark and evil land
And so it is he loves me,
the lifter of my head
As I followed him into battle
He took my blows instead
by Alma Lee 2007
A Sorrow Great
Some say a sorrow great
lives so deep the soul doth swell,
Disposing the voice of reason
where only silence fell
Deep and desperate inside life’s
tempest, storm and squalls
it abides there
behind Hades heady walls
No– is only phantasm
where evils domain shall dwell
For it is a saints life on earth
that paves the road to hell
With great depth of commitment
we commend our sorrows to our own, but feeble grip
Ever slipping downward as
though Christ’s atonement was but a merry myth
Here we are at Dante’s final gate
alas it is first here, we for our salvation wait
Depression’s insignia,
has framed its sorrow here
So feeble, an emblem
for such forbidden fear
Let it be then wisdom,
soul on the verge
dim twilight
The dawn shall come bearing down
in truth’s almighty light
Ever bearing cross in heart
the saints sorrows, now set hope in sight
Lord, Christ– Savior
strengthen me for the fight
Now wait I, as from heaven, my lover to defend me,
atone, acquit, redeem me against this demonic blast
Is it better to remain here,
clinging to the remnant, tormented and harassed
Gently he caresses me, saying
grasp not for your sanity let go and take my hand
For only I can lead you,
in this dark and evil land
And so it is he loves me,
the lifter of my head
As I followed him into battle
He took my blows instead
by Alma Lee 2007
This is a beautiful poem
ReplyDeleteI love your blog!
I'm an artist as well, please check my site and tell me what you think, I would love to hear any feedback!
May I link you?