This Is David
From his mama's own mouth, this story came
Her travail to carry him, a long trail
Of tears, loneliness, suffering and shame
A hunger for which hope made no avail
And then the hemorrhaging, her vital blood
Like common mud, tearing his world apart
Your life and her life in that tragic flood
The sudden silence of his beating heart
Sirens, Hospital, still he died, once, twice
The doctors testified, for they helpless stood
Perplexed, frustrated with every device
God alone that day turned evil to good ...
Made his purpose seen in life's providence
Restored hope by frail wisp of evidence.
ii
A pimple of flesh, great folds of white sheet
The child like raisin in its crumpled spot
Seemed more alien than a baby sweet
With shriveled skin, and head a global pot
O the tense days, miserable and lone
The furtive prayers of a mother's heart
"As bad as can be, Lord, make him my own,"
The nervous scanning of the daily chart.
The little blimp became a form, a frame
A sense of gladness, a kindle of dream
A moon's memory that gave spring a name
A fresher hope from lost of true esteem.
She called him "David," went to work again
Lifting the load of pain, bearing the stain.
iii
And there in that dark environment he
Like stubborn cactus in dry sand made root
Sucking up the elements, the salt sea
And violence, the meaningless of truth
War and poverty needs no moral code
Survival survival was a luxury for him.
Harsh, and cruel is desire where abode
Drought an, d scarcity, their horizon dim.
We burn trees for coal, cannot make storm
Wealth provides small control, the poor has none
No shelter from life's threats nor men's harm
Nothing is secure, no, not with a gun.
But jackals make them, the frightened keep them
Like buzzards over our sweet Bethlehem.
iv
O David, you should have left that day. You
Should have held your rudder firm 'gainst that breeze
But too little strength was left in sinew,
To heavy the armor that bowed your knees
And deaf the heart that heard the voice before
And answered at eleven. Hope endures
Through even darken deserts, light has a door
To love no human sad ever ignores.
God saved your life twice on the day of birth
And did three more times when you turned your back
To sealed your purpose in your spell on earth.
From the brink of hell, God's love brings you back
To be his Paul, his missionary bright
His little tiger flaming through the night.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2010
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