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'Father, Forgive Our Doubt!'

Is it just being human to hate a truth teller,
To hide when a man like Christ shines in his truth,
To dismiss His transparent reveals as man's ego,
Though most hearts suspect that His least word is stellar,
(Not clown on a soapbox who's simply uncouth?)
Some still quail at the thought a non-white is amigo!

Is the gain for one party just, "How shall I spend this?"
Or win for the other group, "Look how we serve?"
God's Grace isn't just bumper crop, barns filled to rafters
The rain's not a blessed one's delight; fools feel this bliss,
Not diamonds we wear! Not clear sign of our nerve!
Love's provisions are real; all the vain aren't the drafters.

Does all hubris arise from attempts to be own sage?
Man's shame that the Christ had to die to save us?
Is our Nature created by man's choice or gifting?
Is Sin born of God's choice or root on the blank page?
We nurse on a truth that the wise do not suss
And have faith in a God whose Love's done the tough lifting.

It seems clear on close reading, born sinners in Your Mind
You knew us before the big bang birthed our space!
Is allowing you access to poetry hearten
Our gift to You? Poetry servant? Who gets wined?
What hope but our God has the Grace to erase
The dark void that perhaps is humankind's last curtain.


Brian Johnston
2nd of November 2018

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