So Great My Grief
So great my grief that all is tears;
Being itself is overflowing,
infinitely deep with sorrow. Fears
prompt the brooding Spirit,
back and forth in agitation,
wishing not to know its knowing
wishing not to hear its listening.
If only righteousness were where it stopped,
Not leading on to goodness, then to love!
For penalties and rigour I could opt.
Or goodness: I could have raised Myself above
and not be blamed.
But what is perfect goodness if not love?
To be less than love then God is shamed.
Perfect Me! Affection fits me like a glove.
And hence the tears, the endless grief;
For what I see breaks heavenís heart -
A future thatís beyond belief;
where human kind distains to play its part
will not respond in freedom to attain the good
nor with love redeem
nor love return as I desire they should
nor serve, nor help, nor be, but seem.
And yet they think I can protect them from themselves
As father; and for them to pay the cost.
And love becomes a toy with other toys upon the shelves
While they ignore my tears at Holocaust.
Will I give them space, another chance?
Suspend my sorrow, produce dry land, once more?
Begin again creationís dance
in hopeís they reach, this time, the other shore?
Together, will we go the lovers way
and find the good beyond all good?
Pretend to set aside foreknowledge for a day;
And stumble on
another tree, another cross of wood?