Post by MIRIAM JACOB on Aug 19, 2009 6:01:48 GMT -5
THE BALLOONS
They waited in the hedge for me,
Tied with a golden thread,
Tethered on a dark twig.
The lost child in me reached for them,
Drawn by their pearly colours-
One gold, one red, one blue,
A triune vision of a wealth of joy
Unsullied by a world
Grown old with too much knowing.
Too lovely to be held, but near as breath,
I gave them to the soft winds
And to the ripening fields
And so they bounced and sailed,
Turned and wheeled away
Dancing to their music unheard
By all but they that had
The ears to hear.
I caught a glimpse of them,
Half hidden by the corn stalks,
Gaining in height, then dipping low
To the groaning earth.
How like the triune God
Who yet reveals a life of joy
To those who see it- fresh as
Child-like eyes.
The Father, golden in His majesty
Yet waiting for His erring child’s return,
Wiping the hurting dirt from clouded eyes,
To give a new-born vision,
Red- like the blood of sacrifice,
The Son who suffered in our place,
Draws close in all our sorrows,
Blue like the spirit, blowing
Where He will and calling us
From comfort to the mercy
Of the winds of change.
I looked for the balloons
Lost in the tall corn stalks,
Hid from sight and yet,
I knew that they were there.
I knew then that Joy
Does not depend on pleasure
Does not grow in ease,
Does not feed on comfort
Does not hide from challenge,
Is not immune from Sorrow,
It is there, as God is there,
God and Love and Joy,
Tied with a golden thread.
© PAULINE GRIFFITHS
They waited in the hedge for me,
Tied with a golden thread,
Tethered on a dark twig.
The lost child in me reached for them,
Drawn by their pearly colours-
One gold, one red, one blue,
A triune vision of a wealth of joy
Unsullied by a world
Grown old with too much knowing.
Too lovely to be held, but near as breath,
I gave them to the soft winds
And to the ripening fields
And so they bounced and sailed,
Turned and wheeled away
Dancing to their music unheard
By all but they that had
The ears to hear.
I caught a glimpse of them,
Half hidden by the corn stalks,
Gaining in height, then dipping low
To the groaning earth.
How like the triune God
Who yet reveals a life of joy
To those who see it- fresh as
Child-like eyes.
The Father, golden in His majesty
Yet waiting for His erring child’s return,
Wiping the hurting dirt from clouded eyes,
To give a new-born vision,
Red- like the blood of sacrifice,
The Son who suffered in our place,
Draws close in all our sorrows,
Blue like the spirit, blowing
Where He will and calling us
From comfort to the mercy
Of the winds of change.
I looked for the balloons
Lost in the tall corn stalks,
Hid from sight and yet,
I knew that they were there.
I knew then that Joy
Does not depend on pleasure
Does not grow in ease,
Does not feed on comfort
Does not hide from challenge,
Is not immune from Sorrow,
It is there, as God is there,
God and Love and Joy,
Tied with a golden thread.
© PAULINE GRIFFITHS