EBENEZER
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
hither by thy help I’ve come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Robert Robinson’s hymn Come Thy Fount of Every Blessing
To raise an Ebenezer: In Hebrew, Ebenezer means “stone of help” (eben = stone; ezer = help). Samuel wanted the people to remember, not just for a few days, but for years, for decades, for generations, how God had come to the rescue of his people when they humbled themselves before him.
(from desiringgod.org)
EBENEZER - with a nod to A Christmas Carol
There’s a knock at the door!
There’s a knock at the door,
And yet! it’s the knocker,
the trend set of the past.
It’s an old-fashioned
drink, a hot toddy,
he thinks.
The whorl of the snow
infringing upon his home.
He’d not allow it!
A man’s
face on the knocker -
he asks himself
if he’s snockered,
though his lips
haven’t tipped a bottle
in too many years.
His glasses are old.
Have they been wiped clean.
The wind seems to roar
at his madness.
It’s madness to hear
an old partner, near,
for he lays under
the snow,
walks with the embers
aglow.
Does he now hear
the chain gang?
He quickly enters his mausoleum -
well, it’s his spot,
a tomb of sorts.
A welcomed nap
in a high-backed chair.
He takes his first snore
but that sound of chains
arouses him from its depths.
He wills the cacophony to back off
but finds he’s not in charge.
He’s to be enslaved to this night,
to keep company with ghosts.
Past
Tripping over his tongue,
silver pockets,
a gal to entertain -
which one to pick…
He prefers to pick a lock
and imprison himself
with his gold.
Present
He has a preference
to close his wrinkled eyes,
but the ghost holds
them open with toothpicks
and to his surprise,
ugly things
crawl and attack.
Future
Finger pointing,
he thought was his
to do, to stretch
towards poverty.
What is worse than the grave,
the dirt-besmirch of devils?
The cemetery rolls out the parchment.
His name at the bottom,
ripped out from the Book of Life.
Dawn
It dawns on him,
he’s not dead yet.
Christmas Day
He removes the knocker,
lays down a welcome mat,
drains the punch,
laughs it up,
feeds the poor,
joins friends and family,
lifts a lame boy
upon his shoulders,
pays the doc
and prays
to see better days.
Graveyard
Only his body interred.
His soul sings loud
with the angels.
Gladly,
he serves the Lord.
Copyright ©
Kim Rodrigues
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